THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


I,   THOU,   AND   THE  OTHER   ONE 


a 


BY 

AMELIA    E.    BARR 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD   AND   COMPANY 
1899 


Copyright,  1898, 
BY  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY. 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


PS 
/* 

1ZZ, 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I    THE  ATHELINGS i 

II    CECIL  AND  EDGAR 23 

III  THE  LORD  OF  EXHAM 42 

IV  THE  DAWN  OF  LOVE 66 

V    ANNABEL  VYNER 81 

VI  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  GREAT  STRUGGLE  103 

VII     THE  LOST  RING 121 

VIII  WILL  SHE  CHOOSE  EVIL  OR  GOOD?       .     .  150 

IX  A  FOOLISH  VIRGIN      ........  169 

X  TROUBLE  COMES  UNSUMMONED      ....  193 

XI  LIFE  COMES  AND  GOES  THE  OLD,  OLD  WAY  213 

XII  THE  SHADOW  OF  SORROW  STRETCHED  OUT  .  235 

XIII  NOT  YET 263 

XIV  AT  THE  WORST 288 

XV  LADY  OF  EXHAM  HALL  AT  LAST      .     .     .  315 

XVI  AFTER  TWENTY  GOLDEN  YEARS  ....  341 


2061^ 


/ 


I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 


CHAPTER   FIRST 

THE  ATHELINGS 

"  The  Land  is  a  Land  of  hills  and  valleys,  and  drinketh 
water  of  the  rain  of  heaven.'" 

BEYOND  Thirsk  and  Northallerton,  through  the 
Cleveland  Hills  to  the  sea  eastward,  and  by  Rose- 
berry  Topping,  northward,  there  is  a  lovely,  lonely 
district,  very  little  known  even  at  the  present  day. 
The  winds  stream  through  its  hills,  as  cool  and 
fresh  as  living  water  ;  and  whatever  beauty  there 
is  of  mountain,  valley,  or  moorland,  Farndale  and 
Westerdale  can  show  it  ;  while  no  part  of  England 
is  so  rich  in  those  picturesque  manor-houses 
which  have  been  the  homes  of  the  same  families 
for  twenty  generations. 

The  inhabitants  of  this  region  are  the  incarna- 
tion of  its  health,  strength,  and  beauty,  —  a  tall, 
comely  race;  bold,  steadfast,  and  thrifty,  with 
very  positive  opinions  on  all  subjects.  There  are 
no  Laodiceans  among  the  men  and  women  of  the 

i 


2       I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

North-Riding;  they  are  one  thing  or  another  — 
Episcopalians  or  Calvinists;  Conservatives  or 
Radicals;  friends  or  enemies.  For  friendship 
they  have  a  capacity  closer  than  brotherhood. 
Once  friends,  they  are  friends  forever,  and  can 
be  relied  on  in  any  emergency  to  "  aid,  comfort, 
and  abet,"  legally  or  otherwise,  with  perhaps  a 
special  zest  to  give  assistance,  if  it  just  smacks  of 
the  "  otherwise." 

Of  such  elements,  John  Atheling,  lord  of  the 
manors  of  Atheling  and  Belward,  was  "  kindly 
mixed,"  a  man  of  towering  form  and  great  mental 
vigour,  blunt  of  speech,  single  of  purpose,  leading, 
with  great  natural  dignity,  a  sincere,  unsophisti- 
cated life.  He  began  this  story  one  evening  in 
the  May  of  1830;  though  when  he  left  Atheling 
manor-house,  he  had  no  idea  anything  out  of  the 
customary  order  of  events  would  happen.  It  is 
however  just  these  mysterious  conditions  of  every- 
day life  that  give  it  such  gravity  and  interest; 
for  what  an  hour  will  bring  forth,  no  man  can 
say ;  and  when  Squire  Atheling  rode  up  to  the 
crowd  on  the  village  green,  he  had  no  presenti- 
ment that  he  was  going  to  open  a  new  chapter 
in  his  life. 

He  smiled  pleasantly  when  he  saw  its  occasion. 
It  was  a  wrestling  match;  and  the  combatants 
were  his  own  chief  shepherd  and  a  stranger.  In 
a  few  moments  the  shepherd  was  handsomely 
"  thrown  "  and  nobody  knew  exactly  how  it  had 
been  done.  But  there  was  hearty  applause,  led 


The  Athelings  3 

by  the  Squire,  who,  nodding  at  his  big  plough- 
man, cried  out,  "  Now  then,  Adam  Sedbergh,  stand 
up  for  Atheling !  "  Adam  flung  off  his  vest  and 
stepped  confidently  forward ;  but  though  a  famous 
wrestler  among  his  fellows,  he  got  as  speedy  and 
as  fair  a  fall  as  the  shepherd  had  received  before 
him.  The  cheers  were  not  quite  as  hearty  at 
this  result,  but  the  Squire  said  peremptorily,  — 

"  It  is  all  right.  Hold  my  horse,  Jarum.  I  '11 
have  to  cap  this  match  myself.  And  stand  back 
a  bit,  men,  I  want  room  enough  to  turn  in."  He 
was  taking  off  his  fine  broadcloth  coat  and  vest  as 
he  spoke,  and  the  lad  he  was  to  match,  stood  look- 
ing at  him  with  his  hands  on  his  hips,  and  a  smile 
on  his  handsome  face.  Perhaps  the  attitude  and 
the  smile  nettled  the  Squire,  for  he  added  with 
some  pride  and  authority, — 

"  I  would  like  you  to  know  that  I  am  Squire 
Atheling;  and  I  am  not  going  to  have  a  better 
wrestler  than  myself  in  Atheling  Manor,  young 
man,  not  if  I  can  help  it." 

"  I  know  that  you  are  Squire  Atheling,"  an- 
swered ttye  stranger.  "  I  have  been  living  with 
your  son  Edgar  for  a  year,  why  would  n't  I  know 
you?  And  if  I  prove  myself  the  better  man,  then 
you  shall  stop  and  listen  to  me  for  half-an-hour, 
and  you  may  stop  a  whole  hour,  if  you  want  to ; 
and  I  think  you  will." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  Edgar  Atheling,  and  I 
am  not  standing  here  either  to  talk  to  thee,  or  to 
listen  to  thee,  but  to  give  thee  a  fair  '  throw '  if  I 


4      I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

can  manage  it."  He  stretched  out  his  left  hand 
as  he  spoke,  and  the  young  man  grasped  it  with 
his  right  hand.  This  result  was  anticipated; 
there  was  a  swift  twist  outward,  and  a  lift  upward, 
and  before  anyone  realised  what  would  happen, 
a  pair  of  shapely  young  legs  were  flying  over  the 
Squire's  shoulder.  Then  there  rose  from  twenty 
Yorkshire  throats  a  roar  of  triumph,  and  the 
Squire  put  his  hands  on  his  hips,  and  looked 
complacently  at  the  stranger  flicking  the  Atheling 
dust  from  his  trousers.  He  took  his  defeat  as 
cheerily  as  his  triumph.  "  It  was  a  clever  throw, 
Squire,"  he  said. 

"  Try  it  again,  lad." 

"  Nay,  I  have  had  enough." 

"  I  thought  so.  Now  then,  don't  brag  of  thy 
wrestling  till  thou  understandest  a  bit  of  '  In- 
play.'  But  I  '11  warrant  thou  canst  talk,  so  I  '11 
give  myself  a  few  minutes  to  listen  to  thee.  I 
should  say,  I  am  twice  as  old  as  thou  art,  but 
I  notice  that  it  is  the  babes  and  sucklings  that 
know  everything,  these  days." 

As  the  Squire  was  speaking,  the  youth  leaped 
into  an  empty  cart  which  someone  pushed  for- 
ward, and  he  was  ready  with  his  answer,  — 

"  Squire,"  he  said,  "  it  will  take  not  babes,  but 
men  like  you  and  these  I  see  around  me,  for  the 
wrestling  match  before  us  all.  What  we  have  to 
tackle  is  the  British  Government  and  the  two 
Houses  of  Parliament." 

The  Squire   laughed   scornfully.     "  They  will 


The  Athelings  5 

'  throw '  thee  into  the  strongest  jail  in  England, 
my  lad ;  they  will  sink  thee  four  feet  under 
ground,  if  thou  art  bound  for  any  of  that  non- 
sense." 

"They  will  have  enough  to  do  to  take  care  of 
themselves  soon." 

"  Thou  art  saying  more  than  thou  knowest. 
Wouldst  thou  have  the  horrors  of  1792  acted  over 
again,  in  England  ?  My  lad,  I  was  a  youngster 
then,  but  I  saw  the  red  flag,  dripping  with  blood, 
go  round  the  Champ-de-Mars." 

"  None  of  us  want  to  carry  the  red  flag,  Squire. 
It  is  the  tri-colour  of  Liberty  we  want ;  and  that 
flag  —  in  spite  of  all  tyrants  can  do  —  will  be 
carried  round  the  world  in  glory !  When  I  was 
in  America  —  " 

"  Wilt  thou  be  quiet  about  them  foreign  coun- 
tries? We  have  bother  enough  at  home,  without 
going  to  the  world's  end  for  more.  And  I  will 
have  no  such  talk  in  my  manor.  If  thou  dost 
not  stop  it,  I  shall  have  to  make  thee." 

"  King  William,  and  all  his  Lords  and  Com- 
mons, cannot  stop  such  talk.  It  is  on  every 
honest  tongue,  and  at  every  decent  table.  It  is 
in  the  air,  Squire,  and  the  winds  of  heaven  carry 
it  wherever  they  go." 

"  If  thou  saidst  William  Cobbett,  thou  mightst 
happen  hit  the  truth.  The  winds  of  heaven  have 
better  work  to  do.  What  art  thou  after  anyway?  " 

"  Such  a  Parliamentary  Reform  as  will  give 
every  honest  man  a  voice  in  the  Government." 


6      I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"Just  so  !  Thou  wouldst  make  the  door  of  the 
House  of  Commons  big  enough  for  any  rubbish 
to  go  through." 

"  The  plan  has  been  tried,  Squire,  in  America ; 
and 

As  the  Liberty  Lads  over  the  sea, 

Bought  their  freedom  —  and  cheaply —  with  blood  ; 

So  we,  boys,  we 
Will  die  fighting  ;  or  live  free, 
And  down  with  —  " 

"  Stop  there  !  "  roared  the  Squire.  "  Nonsense 
in  poetry  is  a  bit  worse  than  any  other  kind  of 
nonsense.  Speak  in  plain  words,  or  be  done  with 
it !  Do  you  know  what  you  want  ?  " 

"  That  we  do.  We  want  the  big  towns,  where 
working  men  are  the  many,  and  rich  men,  the 
few,  to  be  represented.  We  want  all  sham  bor- 
oughs thrown  out.  What  do  you  think  of  Old 
Sarum  sending  a  member  to  Parliament,  when 
there  is  n't  any  Old  Sarum  ?  There  used  to  be, 
in  the  days  of  King  Edward  the  First,  but  there 
is  now  no  more  left  of  it  than  there  is  of  the 
Tower  of  Babel.  What  do  you  think  of  the 
Member  for  Ludgershall  being  not  only  the 
Member,  but  the  whole  constituency  of  Ludger- 
shall ?  What  do  you  think  of  Gatton  having  just 
seven  voters,  and  sending  two  members  to  Parlia- 
ment?"—  then  leaning  forward,  and  with  burn- 
ing looks  drinking  the  wind  of  his  own  passionate 
speech  —  "  What  do  you  think  of  Leeds  !  Man- 


The  Athelings  7 

Chester !  Birmingham  !  Sheffield !  being  without 
any  representation  !  " 

"  My  lad,"  cried  the  Squire,  "  have  not  Leeds, 
Manchester,  Birmingham,  Sheffield,  done  very 
well  without  representation?" 

"  Squire,  a  child  may  grow  to  a  man  without 
love  and  without  care ;  but  he  is  a  robbed  and  a 
wronged  child,  for  all  that." 

"The  Government  knows  better  than  thee 
what  to  do  with  big  towns  full  of  unruly  men  and 
women." 

"  That  is  just  the  question.  They  are  not  rep- 
resented, because  they  are  made  up  of  the  work- 
ing population  of  England.  But  the  working  man 
has  not  only  his  general  rights,  he  has  also  rights 
peculiar  to  his  condition;  and  it  is  high  time 
these  rights  were  attended  to.  Yet  these  great 
cities,  full  of  woollen  and  cotton  weavers,  and  of 
fine  workers  in  all  kinds  of  metals,  have  not  a  man 
in  Parliament  to  say  a  word  for  them." 

"  What  is  there  to  say?  What  do  they  want 
Parliament  to  know?  "  asked  the  Squire, scornfully. 

"  They  want  Parliament  to  know  that  they  are 
being  forced  to  work  twelve  hours  a  day,  for  thirty 
pennies  a  week ;  and  that  they  have  to  pay  ten 
pennies  for  every  four-pound  loaf  of  bread.  And 
they  expect  that  when  Parliament  knows  these 
two  facts,  something  will  be  done  to  help  them  in 
their  poverty  and  misery.  They  believe  that  the 
people  of  England  will  compel  Parliament  to  do 
something." 


8      I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  There  are  Members  in  both  Houses  that  know 
these  things,  why  do  they  not  speak?  —  if  it  was 
reasonable  to  do  so." 

"  Squire,  they  dare  not.  They  have  not  the 
power,  even  if  they  had  the  will.  The  Peers  and 
the  great  Landlords  own  two-thirds  of  the  House 
of  Commons.  They  own  their  boroughs  and 
members,  just  as  they  own  their  parks  and  cat- 
tle. One  duke  returns  eleven  members  ;  another 
duke  returns  nine  members ;  and  such  a  city  as 
Manchester  cannot  return  one !  If  this  state  of 
things  does  not  need  reforming,  I  do  not  know 
what  does." 

So  far  his  words  had  rushed  rattling  on  one 
another,  like  the  ring  of  iron  on  iron  in  a  day  of 
old-world  battle ;  but  at  this  point,  the  Squire 
managed  again  to  interrupt  them.  From  his 
saddle  he  had  something  of  an  advantage,  as  he 
called  out  in  an  angry  voice,  — 

"  And  pray  now,  what  are  you  to  make  by  this 
business?  Is  it  a  bit  of  brass  —  or  land — or 
power  that  you  look  forward  to?" 

"  None  of  them.  I  have  set  my  heart  on  the 
goal,  and  not  on  the  prize.  Let  the  men  who 
come  after  me  reap  ;  I  am  glad  enough  if  I  may 
but  plough  and  sow.  The  Americans  —  " 

"  Chaff i  on  the  Americans !  We  are  North- 
Riding  men.  We  are  Englishmen.  We  are 
sound-hearted,  upstanding  fellows  who  do  our 
day's  work,  enjoy  our  meat  and  drinking,  pay  our 
debts,  and  die  in  our  beds;  and  we  want  none  of 


The  Athelings  9 

thy  Reform  talk !  It  is  all  scandalous  rubbish ! 
Bouncing,  swaggering,  new-fashioned  trumpery! 
We  don't  hold  with  Reformers,  nor  with  any  of 
their  ways !  I  will  listen  to  thee  no  longer.  Thou 
mayst  talk  to  my  men,  if  they  will  be  bothered 
with  thee.  I  'm  not  afraid  of  anything  thou  canst 
say  to  them." 

"  I  think  they  will  be  bothered  with  me,  Squire. 
They  do  not  look  like  fools." 

"  At  any  rate,  there  is  n't  one  Reform  fool 
among  them  ;  but  I  '11  tell  thee  something — go  to 
a  looking-glass,  and  thou  mayst  shake  thy  fist  in 
the  face  of  one  of  the  biggest  fools  in  England," 
—  and  to  the  laughter  this  sally  provoked  the 
Squire  galloped  away. 

For  a  short  distance,  horse  and  rider  kept  up 
the  pace  of  enthusiasm ;  but  when  the  village  was 
left  behind,  the  Squire's  mood  fell  below  its 
level ;  and  a  sudden  depression  assailed  him. 
He  had  "thrown"  his  man;  he  had  "threeped" 
him  down  in  argument;  but  he  had  denied  his 
son,  and  he  brought  a  hungry  heart  from  his 
victory.  The  bright  face  of  his  banished  boy 
haunted  the  evening  shadows;  he  grew  sorrow- 
fully impatient  at  the  memories  of  the  past ;  and 
when  he  could  bear  them  no  longer,  he  struck 
the  horse  a  smart  blow,  and  said  angrily,  — 

"  Dal  it  all !  Sons  and  daughters  indeed  !  A 
bitter,  bitter  pleasure  !  " 

At  this  exclamation,  a  turn  in  the  road  brought 
him  in  sight  of  two  horsemen.  "  Whew  !  I  am 


io     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

having  a  night  of  it !  "  he  muttered.  For  he  rec- 
ognised immediately  the  portly  figure  of  the  great 
Duke  of  Richmoor,  and  he  did  not  doubt  that  the 
slighter  man  at  his  side  was  his  son,  Lord  Exham. 
The  recognition  was  mutual ;  and  on  the  Duke's 
side  very  satisfactory.  He  quickened  his  horse's 
speed,  and  cried  out  as  he  neared  the  Squire,  — 

"  Well  met,  Atheling !  You  are  the  very  man 
I  wished  to  see  !  Do  you  remember  Exham  ?  " 

There  was  a  little  complimentary  speaking,  and 
then  the  Duke  said  earnestly:  "  Squire,  if  there 
is  one  thing  above  another  that  at  this  time  the 
landed  interest  ought  to  do,  it  is  to  stand  to- 
gether. The  country  is  going  to  the  devil ;  it  is 
on  the  verge  of  revolution.  We  must  have  a 
majority  in  the  next  Parliament;  and  we  want 
you  for  the  borough  of  Asketh.  Exham  has 
come  back  from  Italy  purposely  to  take  Gay- 
thorne.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

It  was  the  great  ambition  of  the  Squire  to  go  to 
Parliament,  and  the  little  dispute  he  had  just  had 
with  the  stranger  on  the  green  had  whetted  this 
desire  to  a  point  which  made  the  Duke's  ques- 
tion a  very  interesting  one  to  him ;  but  he  was 
too  shrewd  to  make  this  satisfaction  apparent. 
"There  are  younger  men,  Duke,"  he  answered 
slowly ;  "  and  they  who  go  to  the  next  Parliament 
will  have  a  trying  time  of  it.  I  hear  queer  tales, 
too,  of  Parliament  men;  and  the  House  keeps 
late  hours;  and  late  hours  never  did  suit  my 
constitution." 


The  Athelings  1 1 

"  Come,  Atheling,  that  is  poor  talk  at  a  crisis 
like  this.  There  will  be  a  meeting  at  the  Castle 
on  Friday  —  a  very  important  meeting  —  and  I 
shall  expect  you  to  take  the  chair.  We  are  in 
for  such  a  fight  as  England  has  not  had  since  the 
days  of  Oliver  Cromwell ;  and  it  would  not  be 
like  John  Atheling  to  keep  out  of  it." 

"  It  would  n't.  If  there  is  anything  worth  fight- 
ing for,  John  Atheling  will  be  thereabouts,  I  '11 
warrant  him." 

"Then  we  may  depend  upon  you — Friday, 
and  two  in  the  afternoon,  is  the  day  and  the  hour. 
You  will  not  fail  us?  " 

"  Duke,  you  may  depend  upon  me."  And  so 
the  men  parted;  the  Squire,  in  the  unexpected 
proposal  just  made  him,  hardly  comprehending 
the  messages  of  friendly  courtesy  which  Lord 
Exham  charged  him  to  deliver  to  Mrs.  and  Miss 
Atheling. 

"  My  word  !  My  word !  "  he  exclaimed,  as 
soon  as  the  Duke  and  he  were  far  enough  back 
to  back.  "  Won't  Maude  be  set  up  ?  Won't  little 
Kitty  plume  her  wings?  "  and  in  this  vague,  pur- 
poseless sense  of  wonder  and  elation  he  reached 
his  home.  The  gates  to  the  large,  sweet  garden 
stood  open,  but  after  a  moment's  thought,  he 
passed  them,  and  went  round  to  the  farm  court  at 
the  back  of  the  house.  The  stables  occupied  one 
side  of  this  court,  and  he  left  his  horse  there,  and 
proceeded  to  the  kitchen.  The  girls  were  start- 
ing the  fires  under  the  coppers  for  the  quarterly 


12     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

brewing ;  they  said  "  the  Missis  was  in  the  house- 
place,"  and  the  Squire  opened  the  door  between 
the  two  rooms,  and  went  into  the  houseplace. 
But  the  large  room  was  empty,  though  the  lat- 
tices were  open,  and  a  sudden  great  waft  of  honey- 
suckle fragance  saluted  him  as  he  passed  them. 
He  noticed  it,  and  he  noticed  also  the  full  moon- 
light on  the  rows  of  shining  pewter  plates  and 
flagons,  though  he  was  not  conscious  at  the 
time  that  these  things  had  made  any  impression 
upon  him. 

Two  or  three  steps  at  the  west  end  of  this 
room  led  to  a  door  which  opened  into  Mrs. 
Atheling's  parlour;  and  the  Squire  passed  it  im- 
patiently. The  news  of  the  night  had  become 
too  much  for  him;  he  wanted  to  tell  his  wife. 
But  Mrs.  Atheling  was  not  in  her  parlour.  A  few 
ash  logs  were  burning  brightly  on  the  hearth,  and 
there  was  a  round  table  spread  for  supper,  and 
the  candles  were  lit,  and  showed  him  the  mis- 
tress's little  basket  containing  her  keys  and  her 
knitting,  but  neither  wife  nor  daughter  were  to  be 
seen. 

"  It  is  always  the  way,"  he  muttered.  "  It  is 
enough  to  vex  any  man.  Women  are  sure  to  be 
out  of  the  road  when  they  are  wanted ;  and  in 
the  road  when  nobody  cares  to  see  them. 
Wherever  has  Maude  taken  herself?  "  Then  he 
opened  a  door  and  called  "  Maude  !  Maude  !  "  in 
no  gentle  voice. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  call  was  answered.     Mrs. 


The  Athelings  13 

Atheling  came  hurriedly  into  the  room.  There 
was  a  pleasant  smile  on  her  large,  handsome  face, 
and  she  carried  in  her  hands  a  bowl  of  cream  and 
a  loaf  of  white  bread.  "  Why,  John  !  "  she  ex- 
claimed, "  whatever  is  to  do  ?  I  was  getting  a 
bit  of  supper  for  you.  You  are  late  home  to- 
night, are  n't  you  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  I  was  —  all  of  an  hour-and-a- 
half  late." 

"  But  you  are  not  ill,  John?  There  is  nothing 
wrong,  I  hope?" 

"  If  things  go  a  bit  out  of  the  common  way, 
women  always  ask  if  they  have  gone  wrong.  I 
should  think,  they  might  as  well  go  right." 

"  So  they  might.  Here  is  some  fresh  cream, 
John.  I  saw  after  it  myself;  and  the  haver-cake 
is  toasted,  and  —  " 

"  Nay,  but  I  '11  have  my  drinking  to-night, 
Maude.  I  have  been  flustered  more  than  a  little, 
I  can  tell  thee  that." 

"  Then  you  shall  have  your  drinking.  We 
tapped  a  fresh  barrel  of  old  ale  an  hour  ago.  It 
is  that  strong  and  fine  as  never  was ;  by  the  time 
you  get  to  your  third  pint,  you  will  be  ready  to 
make  faces  at  Goliath." 

"  Well,  Maude,  if  making  faces  means  making 
fight,  there  will  be  enough  of  that  in  every 
county  of  England  soon,  —  if  Dukes  and  Radical 
orators  are  to  be  believed." 

"  Have  you  seen  the  Duke  to-night?" 

"  I  have.    He  has  offered  me  a  seat  in  the  next 


14     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Parliament.  He  thinks  there  is  a  big  fight  before 
us." 

"  Parliament !  And  the  Duke  of  Richmoor  to 
seat  you  !  Why,  John,  I  am  astonished  !  " 

"  I  felt  like  I  was  dreaming.  Now  then,  where 
is  Kate?  I  want  to  tell  the  little  maid  about  it. 
It  will  be  a  grand  thing  for  Kate.  She  will  have 
some  chances  in  London,  and  I  '11  warrant  she  is 
Yorkshire  enough  to  take  the  best  of  them." 

"  Kate  was  at  Dashwood's  all  the  afternoon ;  and 
they  were  riding  races ;  and  she  came  home  tired 
to  death.  I  tucked  her  up  in  her  bed  an  hour  ago." 

"  I  am  a  bit  disappointed ;  but  things  are 
mostly  ordered  that  way.  There  is  something 
else  to  tell  you,  Maude.  I  saw  a  stranger  on  the 
green  throw  Bill  Verity  and  Adam  Sedbergh; 
and  I  could  not  stand  such  nonsense  as  that,  so 
I  off  with  my  coat  and  settled  him." 

"  You  promised  me  that  you  would  not  '  stand 
up  '  any  more,  John.  Some  of  them  youngsters 
will  give  you  a  '  throw '  that  you  won't  get  easy 
over.  And  you  out  of  practice  too." 

"  Out  of  practice  !  Nothing  of  the  sort  What 
do  you  think  I  do  with  myself  on  wet  afternoons  ? 
What  could  I  do  with  myself,  but  go  to  the  gran- 
ary and  have  an  hour  or  two's  play  with  Verity 
and  Sedbergh,  or  any  other  of  the  lads  that  care 
to  feel  my  grip?  I  have  something  else  to  tell 
you,  Maude.  I  had  a  talk  with  this  strange  lad. 
He  began  some  Reform  nonsense ;  and  I  settled 
him  very  cleverly." 


The  Athelings  15 

"  Poor  lad  !  "  She  spoke  sadly  and  absently, 
and  it  nettled  the  Squire.  "  I  know  what  you 
are  thinking,  Mistress,"  he  said ;  "  but  the  time 
has  come  when  we  are  bound  to  stick  to  our 
own  side." 

"  The  poor  are  suffering  terribly,  John.  They 
are  starved  and  driven  to  the  last  pinch.  There 
never  was  anything  like  it  before." 

"Women  are  a  soft  lot;  it  would  not  do  to 
give  up  to  their  notions." 

"  If  you  mean  that  women  have  soft  hearts,  it 
is  a  good  thing  for  men  that  women  are  that 
way  made." 

"  I  have  not  done  with  my  wonders  yet.  Who 
do  you  think  was  with  the  Duke?" 

"  I  don't  know,  and  I  can't  say  that  I  care." 

"  Yes,  but  you  do.  It  was  Lord  Exham.  He 
said  this  and  that  about  you,  but  I  did  not  take 
much  notice  of  his  fine  words."  Then  he  rose 
and  pushed  his  chair  aside,  and  as  he  left  the 
room  added,  — 

"  That  stranger  lad  I  had  the  tussle  with  to- 
night says  he  knows  your  son  Edgar — that 
they  have  lived  and  worked  together  for  a  year, 
—  a  very  unlikely  thing." 

"Stop  a  minute,  Squire.  Are  you  not  ashamed 
of  yourself  to  keep  this  news  for  a  tag-end? 
Why  it  is  the  best  thing  I  have  heard  to-night; 
and  I  '11  be  bound  you  let  it  go  past  you  like 
a  waft  of  wind.  What  did  you  ask  the  stranger 
about  my  son?  " 


16     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  Nothing.     Not  a  word." 

"  It  was  like  your  stubborn  heart.  My  son 
indeed !  If  ever  you  had  a  son,  it  is  Edgar. 
You  were  just  like  him  when  I  married  you  — 
not  as  handsome  —  but  very  near ;  and  you  are 
as  like  as  two  garden  peas  in  your  pride,  and 
self-will,  and  foolish  anger.  Don't  talk  to  me  of 
Dukes,  and  Lords,  and  Parliaments,  and  wrestling 
matches.  I  want  to  hear  about  my  son.  If  you 
have  nothing  to  say  about  Edgar,  I  care  little 
for  your  other  news." 

"  Why,  Maude  !  Whatever  is  the  matter  with 
you  ?  I  have  lived  with  you  thirty  years,  and  it 
seems  that  I  have  never  known  you  yet." 

"  But  I  know  you,  John  Atheling.  And  I  am 
ashamed  of  myself  for  having  made  nothing 
better  out  of  you  in  thirty  years.  I  thought  I 
had  you  better  shaped  than  you  appear  to  be." 

"  I  shall  need  nothing  but  my  shroud,  when 
thou,  or  any  other  mortal,  shapest  me." 

"  Fiddlesticks  !  Go  away  with  your  pride  !  I 
have  shaped  everything  for  you,  —  your  house, 
and  your  eating  ;  your  clothes,  and  your  re- 
ligion ;  and  if  I  had  ever  thought  you  would 
have  fallen  into  Duke  Richmoor's  hands,  I  would 
have  shaped  your  politics  before  this  time  of 
day." 

"  Now,  Maude,  thou  canst  easily  go  further  than 
thou  canst  come  back,  if  thou  dost  not  take  care. 
Thou  must  remember  that  I  am  thy  lord  and 
husband." 


The  Athelings  17 

"To  be  sure,  thou  hast  that  name.  But  thou 
hast  always  found  it  best  to  do  as  thy  lady  and 
mistress  told  thee  to  do ;  and  if  ever  thou  didst 
take  thy  own  way,  sorry  enough  thou  hast  been 
for  it.  Talk  of  clay  in  the  hands  of  the  potter ! 
Clay  is  free  and  independent  to  what  a  man  is  in 
the  hands  of  his  wife.  Now,  John,  go  to  bed.  I 
won't  speak  to  thee  again  till  I  find  out  some- 
thing about  my  son  Edgar." 

"  Very  well,  Madame." 

"  I  have  been  thy  guardian  angel  for  thirty 
years  "  —  and  Mrs.  Atheling  put  her  head  in  her 
hands,  and  began  to  cry  a  little.  The  Squire 
could  not  bear  that  argument;  he  turned  back- 
ward a  few  steps,  and  said  in  a  more  conciliatory 
voice,  — 

"  Come  now,  Maude.  Thou  hast  been  my 
master  for  thirty  years;  for  that  is  what  thou 
meanest  by  '  guardian  angel.'  But  there  is  noth- 
ing worth  crying  about.  I  thought  I  had  brought 
news  that  would  set  thee  up  a  bit;  but  women 
are  never  satisfied.  What  dost  thou  want 
more?" 

"  I  want  thee  to  go  in  the  morning  and  find 
out  all  about  Edgar.  I  want  thee  to  bring  his 
friend  up  here.  I  would  like  to  question  him 
myself." 

"  I  will  not  do  it." 

"  Then  thou  oughtest  to  be  ashamed  of  thyself 
for  as  cruel,  and  stubborn,  and  ill-conditioned  a 
father  as  I  know  of.  John,  dear  John,  I  am  very 


1 8     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

unhappy  about  the  lad.  He  went  away  without 
a  rag  of  his  best  clothes.  There's  the  twelve 
fine  linen  shirts  Kitty  made  him,  backstitched 
and  everything,  lying  in  his  drawers  yet,  and 
his  top-coat  hanging  on  the  peg  in  his  room, 
and  his  hat  and  cane  so  natural  like;  and  he 
never  was  a  lad  to  take  care  of  his  health ;  and 
so—" 

"  Now,  Maude,  I  have  humbled  a  bit  to  thee 
many  a  time;  and  I  don't  mind  it  at  all;  for 
thou  art  only  a  woman  —  and  a  woman  and  a 
wife  can  blackguard  a  man  as  no  other  body 
has  either  the  right  or  the  power  to  do  —  but  I 
will  not  humble  to  Edgar  Atheling.  No,  I  won't ! 
He  is  about  as  bad  a  prodigal  son  as  any  father 
could  have." 

"  Well,  I  never !  Putting  thy  own  son  down 
with  harlots  and  swine,  and  such  like !  " 

"  I  do  nothing  of  the  sort,  Maude.  There 's 
all  kinds  of  prodigals.  Has  not  Edgar  left  his 
home  and  gone  away  with  Radicals  and  Re- 
formers, and  poor,  discontented  beggars  of  all 
makes  and  kinds?  Happen,  I  could  have  for- 
given him  easier  if  it  had  been  a  bit  of  pleasur- 
ing, —  wine  and  a  bonny  lass,  or  a  race-horse  of 
two.  But  mechanics'  meetings,  and  pandering  to 
ranting  Radicals  —  I  call  it  scandalous  !  " 

"  Edgar  has  a  good  heart." 

"  A  good  heart !  A  cat  and  a  fiddle  !  And 
that  friend  of  his  thou  wantest  me  to  run  after,  he 
is  nothing  but  a  bouncing,  swaggering  puppy ! 


The  Athelings  19 

Body  of  me,  Maude !  I  will  not  have  this  subject 
named  again.  If  thou  thinkest  I  will  ever  humble 
to  Edgar  Atheling,  thou  art  off  thy  horse ;  for  I 
will  not  —  never  !  " 

"  Well,  John,  as  none  of  thy  family  were  ever 
out  of  their  senses  before,  I  do  hope  thou  wilt 
come  round ;  I  do  indeed  !  " 

"  Make  thyself  easy  on  that  score.  Lord ! 
What  did  the  Almighty  make  women  of  ?  It 
confounds  me." 

"  To  be  sure  it  does.  Didst  thou  expect  the 
Almighty  to  tell  thee  ?  He  has  so  ordered  things 
that  men  get  wed,  and  then  try  and  find  the 
secret  out.  Thou  hadst  better  go  to  bed,  John 
Atheling.  I  see  plainly  there  is  neither  sense 
nor  reason  in  thee  to-night.  I  fancy  thou  art  a 
bit  set  up  with  the  thought  of  being  sent  to 
Parliament  by  Duke  Richmoor.  I  would  n't  if 
I  was  thee,  for  thou  wilt  have  to  do  just  what 
he  tells  thee  to  do." 

"  What  an  aggravating  woman  thou  art !  "  and 
with  the  words  he  passed  through  the  door, 
clashing  it  after  him  in  a  way  that  made  Mistress 
Atheling  smile  and  nod  her  handsome  head 
understandingly.  She  stood  waiting  until  she 
heard  a  door  clash  sympathetically  up-stairs,  and 
then  she  said  softly,  — 

"  He  did  not  manage  to  '  throw '  or  '  threep ' 
me;  if  he  was  cock  of  the  walk  down  on  the 
green  —  what  fools  men  are !  —  I  see  clear 
through  him  —  stubborn  though  —  takes  after 


2O     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

his  mother  —  and  there  never  was  a  woman  more 
stubborn  than  Dame  Joan  Atheling." 

During  this  soliloquy  she  was  locking  up  the 
cupboards  in  the  parlour  and  houseplace.  Then 
she  opened  the  kitchen  door  and  sharply  gave 
the  two  women  watching  the  malt  mash  her  last 
orders ;  after  which  she  took  off  her  slippers  at 
the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and  went  very  quietly  up 
them.  She  had  no  light,  but  without  any  hesita- 
tion she  turned  towards  a  certain  corridor,  and 
gently  pushed  open  a  door.  It  let  her  into  a 
large,  low  room ;  and  the  moonlight  showed  in 
the  centre  of  it  a  high  canopied  bedstead,  piled 
with  snowy  pillows  and  drapery,  and  among 
them,  lying  with  closed  eyes,  her  daughter 
Kate. 

"  Kate  !  Kitty  darling !  Are  you  awake  ?  "  she 
whispered. 

"  Mother !  Yes,  dear  Mother,  I  am  wide 
awake." 

"  Your  father  has  been  in  one  of  his  tantrums 
again  —  fretting  and  fuming  like  everything." 

"  Poor  father  !    What  angered  him?  " 

"  Well,  child,  I  angered  him.  Why  would  n't 
I  ?  He  saw  a  man  in  the  village  who  has  been 
living  with  Edgar  for  a  year,  and  he  never  asked 
him  whether  your  poor  brother  was  alive  or 
dead.  What  do  you  think  of  that?  " 

"It  was  too  bad.  Never  mind,  Mother.  I 
will  go  to  the  village  in  the  morning,  and  I  will 
find  the  man,  and  hear  all  about  Edgar.  If 


The  Athelings  21 

there  is  any  chance,  and  you  want  to  see  him,  I 
will  bring  him  here." 

"  I  would  like  him  to  come  here,  Kitty ;  for 
you  know  he  might  take  Edgar  his  best  clothes. 
The  poor  lad  must  be  in  rags  by  this  time." 

"  Don't  fret,  Mother.     I  '11  manage  it." 

"  I  knew  you  would.  Your  father  is  going  to 
Parliament,  Kate.  The  Duke  offers  to  seat  him, 
and  you  will  get  up  to  London.  What  do  you 
think  of  that?" 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it.  Father  ought  to  be 
in  Parliament.  He  is  such  a  straight-forward  man." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  whether  that  kind  of  man 
is  wanted  there,  Kate ;  but  he  will  do  right,  and 
speak  plain,  I  have  no  doubt.  I  thought  I  would 
tell  you  at  once.  It  is  something  to  look  for- 
ward to.  Now  go  to  sleep  and  dream  of  what 
may  come  out  of  it,  —  for  one  thing,  you  shall 
have  plenty  of  fine  new  dresses  —  good-night, 
my  dear  child." 

"  Good-night,  Mother.  You  may  go  sweetly 
to  sleep,  for  I  will  find  out  all  about  Edgar. 
You  shall  be  at  rest  before  dinner-time  to- 
morrow." Then  the  mother  stooped  and  tucked 
in  the  bedclothing,  not  because  it  needed  it, 
but  because  it  was  a  natural  and  instinctive  way 
to  express  her  care  and  tenderness.  Very  softly 
she  stepped  to  the  door,  but  ere  she  reached  it, 
turned  back  to  the  bed,  and  laying  her  hand 
upon  Kitty's  head  whispered,  "Lord  Exham  is 
home  again.  He  is  coming  here  to-morrow." 


22     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

And  Kate  neither  spoke  nor  moved;  but 
when  she  knew  that  she  was  quite  alone,  a  sweet 
smile  gathered  round  her  lips,  and  with  a  gentle 
sigh  she  went  quickly  away  to  the  Land  of 
Happy  Dreams. 


Cecil  and  Edgar  23 


CHAPTER   SECOND 

CECIL  AND   EDGAR 

EARLY  the  next  morning  the  Squire  was  in 
the  parlour  standing  at  the  open  lattices,  and 
whistling  to  a  robin  on  a  branch  of  the  cherry- 
tree  above  them.  The  robin  sang,  and  the 
Squire  whistled,  scattering  crumbs  as  he  did 
so,  and  it  was  this  kindly  picture  which  met 
Kate's  eyes  as  she  opened  the  door  of  the  room. 
To  watch  and  to  listen  was  natural ;  and  she 
stood  on  the  threshold  doing  so  until  the  Squire 
came  to  the  last  bars  of  his  melody.  Then  in  a 
gay  voice  she  took  it  up,  and  sang  to  his  whistling : 

"  York  !   York  /  for  my  money  /  "  * 

"  Hello,  Kate !  "  he  cried  in  his  delight  as  he 
turned  to  her;  and  as  joyously  as  the  birds  sing 
"  Spring !  "  she  called,  "  Good-morning,  Father  !  " 
"  God  bless  thee,  Kate !  "  and  for  a  moment 
he  let  his  eyes  rest  on  the  vision  of  her  girlish 
beauty.  For  there  was  none  like  Kate  Atheling 

1 "  York  !  York  for  my  monie 
Of  all  the  places  I  ever  did  see 
This  is  the  place  for  good  companie 
Except  the  city  of  London." 


24     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

in  all  the  North-Riding ;  from  her  sandalled  feet 
to  her  shining  hair,  she  was  the  fairest,  sweetest 
maid  that  ever  Yorkshire  bred,  —  an  adorable 
creature  of  exquisite  form  and  superb  colouring ; 
merry  as  a  bird,  with  a  fine  spirit  and  a  most 
affectionate  heart.  As  he  gazed  at  her  she  came 
close  to  him,  put  her  fingers  on  his  big  shoulders, 
and  stood  on  tiptoes  to  give  him  his  morning 
greeting.  He  lifted  her  bodily  and  kissed  her 
several  times ;  and  she  said  with  a  laugh,  — 

"  One  kiss  for  my  duty,  and  one  for  my  pleas- 
ure, and  all  the  rest  are  stolen.  Put  me  down, 
Father;  and  what  will  you  do  for  me  to-day?" 

"  What  wouldst  thou  like  me  to  do  ?  " 

"  May  I  ride  with  you?  " 

"  Nay ;  I  can't  take  thee  with  me  to-day.  I 
am  going  to  Squire  Ayton's,  and  from  there  to 
Rudby's,  and  very  like  as  far  as  Ormesby  and 
Pickering." 

"  Then  you  will  not  be  home  to  dinner?  " 

"  Not  I.     I  shall  get  my  dinner  somewhere." 

"  Can  I  come  and  meet  you?  " 

"  Thou  hadst  better  not." 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Atheling  entered,  and 
Kate,  turning  to  her,  said,  "  Mother,  I  am  not  to 
ride  with  father  to-day.  He  is  going  a  visiting, 
—  going  to  get  his  dinner  '  somewhere,'  and  he 
thinks  I  had  better  not  come  to  meet  him." 

"  Father  is  right.  Father  knows  he  is  not  to 
trust  to  when  he  goes  '  somewhere '  for  his 
dinner.  For  he  will  call  for  Ayton,  and  they 


Cecil  and  Edgar  25 

two  will  get  Rudby,  and  then  it  will  be  Ormesby, 
and  so  by  dinner-time  they  may  draw  rein  at 
Pickering,  and  Pickering  will  start  '  Corn  Laws ' 
and  '  Protection  for  the  Farmers,'  and  midnight 
will  be  talked  away.  Is  not  that  about  right, 
John?"  but  she  asked  the  question  with  a 
smile  that  proved  Maude  Atheling  was  once 
more  the  wise  and  loving  "  guardian  angel "  of 
her  husband. 

"  Thou  knowest  all  about  it,  Maude." 
"  I  know  enough,  any  way,  to  advise  thee  to 
stand  by  thy  own  heart,  and  to  say  and  do  what 
it  counsels  thee.  Pickering  is  made  after  the 
meanest  model  of  a  Yorkshireman ;  and  when 
a  Yorkshireman  turns  out  to  be  a  failure,  he  is 
a  ruin,  and  no  mistake." 

"  What  by  that?  I  can't  quarrel  with  Pickering. 
You  may  kick  up  a  dust  with  your  neighbour,  but, 
sooner  or  later,  it  will  settle  on  your  own  door- 
stone.  It  is  years  and  years  since  I  learned  that 
lesson.  And  as  for  Pickering's  ideas,  many  a 
good  squire  holds  the  same." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it.  Whatever  the  Ass  says,  the 
asses  believe ;  thou  wilt  find  that  out  when  thou 
goest  to  Parliament." 

"Are  you  really  going  to  Parliament,  Father?" 
"  Wouldst  thou  like  me  to  go,  Kate?  " 
"  Yes,  if  I  may  go  to  London  with  you." 
"  It  is  n't  likely  I  would  go  without  thee.     Did 
thy  mother  tell  thee,  Lord  Exham  has  come  back 
from  Italy  to  sit  for  Gaythorne." 


26     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  A  long  way  to  come  for  so  little,"  she  an- 
swered. "  Why,  Father !  there  are  only  a  few 
hovels  in  Gaythorne,  and  all  the  men  worth  any- 
thing have  gone  to  Leeds  to  comb  wool.  Poor 
fellows !  " 

"  Why  dost  thou  say  '  poor  fellows  '  ?  " 

"  Because,  when  a  man  has  been  brought  up 
to  do  his  day's  work  in  fields  and  barns,  among 
grass,  and  wheat,  and  cattle,  it  is  a  big  change  to 
sit  twelve  hours  a  day  in  '  the  Devil's  Hole/  for 
Martha  Coates  told  me  that  is  what  the  wool- 
combing  room  is  called." 

"  There  is  no  sense  in  such  a  name." 

"  It  is  a  very  good  name,  I  think,  for  rooms  so 
hot  and  crowded,  and  so  sickening  with  the  smells 
of  soap,  and  wool,  and  oil,  and  steam.  Martha 
says  her  lads  have  turned  Radicals  and  Metho- 
dists, and  she  does  n't  wonder.  Neither  do  I." 

"  Ay ;  it  is  as  natural  as  can  be.  To  do  his 
duty  by  the  land  used  to  be  religion  enough  for 
any  Yorkshire  lad;  but  when  they  go  to  big 
towns,  they  get  into  bad  company;  and  there 
could  n't  be  worse  company  than  those  weaving 
chaps  of  all  kinds.  No  wonder  the  Government 
does  n't  want  to  hear  from  the  big  towns ;  they 
are  full  of  a  ranting  crowd  of  Non-contents." 

"  Well,  Father,  if  I  was  in  their  place,  and  the 
question  of  Content,  or  Non-content,  was  put  to 
me,  I  should  very  quickly  say,  '  Non-content.' " 

"  Nobody  is  going  to  put  the  question  to  thee. 
Thy  mother  has  not  managed  to  bring  up  a 


Cecil  and  Edgar  27 

daughter  any  better  than  herself,  I  see  that. 
Kate,  my  little  maid,  Lord  Exham  will  be  here 
to-day;  see  that  thou  art  civil  enough  to  him; 
it  may  make  a  lot  of  difference  both  to  thee 
and  me." 

"  John  Atheling !  "  cried  his  wife,  "  what  a  blun- 
derer thou  art !  Why  can't  thou  let  women  and 
their  ways  alone  ?  " 

When  they  rose  from  the  breakfast-table,  the 
Squire  called  for  his  horse,  and  his  favourite  dogs, 
and  bustled  about  until  he  had  Mrs.  Atheling  and 
half-a-dozen  men  and  women  waiting  upon  him. 
But  there  was  much  good  temper  in  all  his 
authoritative  brusqueness,  and  he  went  away  in  a 
little  flurry  of  e"clat,  his  wife  and  daughter,  his  men 
and  maid-servants,  all  watching  him  down  the  ave- 
nue with  a  loving  and  proud  allegiance.  He  was 
so  physically  the  expression  of  his  place  and 
surroundings  that  not  a  soul  in  Atheling  ever 
doubted  that  the  Squire  was  in  the  exact  place 
to  which  God  Almighty  had  called  him. 

On  this  morning  he  was  dressed  in  a  riding 
suit  of  dark  blue  broadcloth  trimmed  with  gilt 
buttons ;  his  vest  was  white,  his  cravat  white,  and 
his  hat  of  black  beaver.  As  he  galloped  away, 
he  swept  it  from  his  brow  to  his  stirrups  in  an 
adieu  to  his  wife  and  daughter;  but  the  men  and 
women-servants  took  their  share  in  the  courtesy, 
and  it  was  easy  to  feel  the  cheer  of  admiration, 
only  expressed  by  their  broad  smiles  and  sympa- 
thetic glances.  As  soon  as  "  the  Master "  was 


28     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

out  of  sight,  they  turned  away,  each  to  his  or  her 
daily  task ;  and  Kate  looked  at  her  mother  in- 
quiringly. There  was  an  instant  understanding, 
and  very  few  words  were  needed. 

"  Thou  hadst  better  lose  no  time.  He  might  get 
away  early." 

"  He  will  not  leave  until  he  sees  us,  Mother. 
That  is  what  he  came  to  Atheling  for,  —  I  '11  war- 
rant it,  —  and  if  I  don't  go  to  the  village,  he  will 
come  here ;  I  know  he  will." 

"  Kitty,  I  can't,  I  can't  trust  to  that — and  you 
promised." 

"  I  am  going  to  keep  my  promise,  Mother. 
Have  my  mare  at  the  door  in  ten  minutes,  and  I 
will  be  ready." 

Mrs.  Atheling  had  attended  to  this  necessity  be- 
fore breakfast,  and  the  mare  was  immediately  wait- 
ing. She  was  a  creature  worthy  of  the  Beauty 
she  had  to  carry,  —  dark  chestnut  in  colour, 
with  wide  haunches  and  deep  oblique  shoulders. 
Her  mane  was  fine,  her  ears  tremulous,  her  nos- 
trils thin  as  parchment,  her  eyes  human  in  intel- 
ligence, her  skin  like  tissue-paper,  showing  the 
warm  blood  pressing  against  it,  and  the  veins 
standing  clearly  out.  Waiting  fretted  her,  and 
she  pawed  the  garden  gravel  impatiently  with  her 
round,  dark,  shining  hoofs  until  Kate  appeared. 
Then  she  uttered  a  low  whinny  of  pleasure,  and 
bent  her  head  for  the  girl  to  lay  her  face  against 
it. 

A  light  leap  from  the  groom's  hand  put  Kate 


Cecil  and  Edgar  29 

in  her  seat,  and  a  lovelier  woman  never  gathered 
reins  in  hand.  In  those  days  also,  the  riding 
dress  of  women  did  not  disfigure  them ;  it  was  a 
garb  that  gave  to  Kate  Atheling's  loveliness 
grace  and  dignity,  an  air  of  discreet  freedom, 
and  of  sweet  supremacy,  —  a  close-fitting  habit  of 
fine  cloth,  falling  far  below  her  feet  in  graceful 
folds,  and  a  low  beaver  hat,  crowned  with  droop- 
ing plumes,  shadowing  her  smiling  face.  One 
word  to  the  mare  was  sufficient;  she  needed  no 
whip,  and  Kate  would  not  have  insulted  her 
friend  and  companion  by  carrying  one. 

For  a  little  while  they  went  swiftly,  then  Kate 
bent  and  patted  the  mare's  neck,  and  she  in- 
stantly obeyed  the  signal  for  a  slower  pace.  For 
Kate  had  seen  before  them  a  young  man  sitting 
on  a  stile,  and  teaching  two  dogs  to  leap  over  the 
whip  which  he  held  in  his  hand.  She  felt  sure 
this  was  the  person  she  had  to  interview;  yet 
she  passed  him  without  a  look,  and  went  forward 
towards  the  village.  After  riding  half-a-mile  she 
took  herself  to  task  for  her  cowardice,  and  turned 
back  again.  The  stranger  was  still  sitting  on  the 
stile,  and  as  she  approached  him  she  heard  a 
hearty  laugh,  evoked  doubtless  by  some  antic  or 
mistake  of  the  dogs  he  was  playing  with.  She 
now  walked  her  mare  toward  him,  and  the  young 
man  instantly  rose,  uncovered  his  head,  and,  push- 
ing the  dogs  away,  bowed  —  not  ungracefully  — 
to  her.  Yet  he  did  not  immediately  speak,  and 
Kate  felt  that  she  must  open  the  conversation. 


30     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  Do  you  —  do  you  want  to  find  any  place  ?  " 
she  asked.  "  I  think  you  are  a  stranger  —  and  I 
am  at  home  here." 

He  smiled  brightly  and  answered,  "  Thank 
you.  I  want  to  find  Atheling  Manor-house.  I 
have  a  message  for  Mrs.  and  Miss  Atheling." 

"  I  am  Miss  Atheling ;  and  I  am  now  returning 
to  the  house.  I  suppose  that  you  are  the  Wres- 
tler and  Orator  of  last  night.  My  father  told  us 
about  the  contest.  Mother  wishes  to  talk  with 
you  —  we  have  heard  that  you  know  my  brother 
Edgar — we  are  very  unhappy  about  Edgar.  Do 
you  know  anything  of  him?  Will  you  come  and 
see  mother — now  —  she  is  very  anxious?" 

These  questions  and  remarks  fell  stumblingly 
from  her  lips,  one  after  the  other ;  she  was  excited 
and  trembling  at  her  own  temerity,  and  yet  all  the 
time  conscious  she  was  Squire  Atheling's  daugh- 
ter and  in  her  father's  Manor,  having  a  kind  of 
right  to  assume  a  little  authority  and  ask  ques- 
tions. The  stranger  listened  gravely  till  Kate 
ceased  speaking,  then  he  said, — 

"  My  name  is  Cecil  North.  I  know  Edgar 
Atheling  very  well.  I  am  ready  to  do  now  what- 
ever you  wish." 

"  Then,  Mr.  North,  I  wish  you  would  come 
with  me.  It  is  but  a  short  walk  to  the  house ; 
Candace  will  take  little  steps,  and  I  will  show  you 
the  way." 

"Thank  you." 

He  said  only  these  two  words,  but  they  broke 


Cecil  and  Edgar  31 

up  his  face  as  if  there  was  music  in  them ;  for  he 
smiled  with  his  lips  and  his  eyes  at  the  same 
time.  Kate  glanced  down  at  him  as  he  walked 
by  her  side.  She  saw  that  he  was  tall,  finely 
formed,  and  had  a  handsome  face ;  that  he  was 
well  dressed,  and  had  an  air  of  distinction ;  and 
yet  she  divined  in  some  occult  way  that  this 
animal  young  beauty  was  only  the  husk  of  his 
being.  After  a  few  moments'  silence,  he  began 
that  commonplace  chat  about  horses  which  in 
Yorkshire  takes  the  place  that  weather  does  in 
other  localities.  He  praised  the  beauty  and 
docility  of  Candace,  and  Kate  hoped  she  was 
walking  slowly  enough;  and  then  Cecil  North 
admired  her  feet  and  her  step,  and  asked  if  she 
ever  stumbled  or  tripped.  This  question  brought 
forth  an  eager  denial  of  any  such  fault,  and  an 
opinion  that  the  rider  was  to  blame  when  such 
an  accident  happened. 

"  In  a  general  way,  you  are  right,  Miss  Athel- 
ing,"  answered  North.  "  If  the  rider  sits  just 
and  upright,  then  any  sudden  jerk  forward 
throws  the  shoulders  backward ;  and  in  that  case, 
if  a  horse  thinks  proper  to  fall,  he  will  be  the  suf- 
ferer. He  may  cut  his  forehead,  or  hurt  his  nose, 
or  bark  his  knees,  but  he  will  be  a  buffer  to  his 
rider." 

"  Candace  has  never  tripped  with  me.  I  have 
had  her  four  years.  I  will  never  part  with  her." 

"  That  is  right.  Don't  keep  a  horse  you  dis- 
like, and  don't  part  with  one  that  suits  you." 


32     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"Do  you  love  horses?  " 

"  Yes.  A  few  years  ago  I  was  all  for  horses. 
I  could  sit  anything.  I  could  jump  everything, 
right  and  left.  I  had  a  horse  then  that  was  made 
to  measure,  and  foaled  to  order.  No  one  bor- 
rowed him  twice.  He  had  a  way  of  coming 
home  without  a  rider.  But  I  have  something 
better  than  horses  to  care  for  now ;  and  all  I  need 
is  a  good  roadster." 

"  My  father  likes  an  Irish  cob  for  that 
purpose." 

"  Nothing  better.  I  have  one  in  the  village 
that  beats  all.  He  can  trot  fourteen  miles  an 
hour,  and  take  a  six-foot  wall  at  the  end  of  it." 

"Do  you  ride  much?" 

"  I  ride  all  over  England." 

She  looked  curiously  at  him,  but  asked  no 
questions ;  and  North  continued  the  conversation 
by  pointing  out  to  her  the  several  points  which 
made  Candace  so  valuable.  "  In  the  first  place," 
he  said,  "  her  colour  is  good,  —  that  dark  chestnut 
shaded  with  black  usually  denotes  speed.  She 
has  all  the  signs  of  a  thoroughbred;  do  you 
know  them?" 

"No;  but  I  should  like  to." 

"  They  are  three  things  long,  —  long  ears,  long 
neck,  and  long  forelegs.  Three  things  short,  - 
short  dock,  short  back,  and  short  hindlegs.  Three 
things  broad,  — broad  forehead,  broad  chest,  and 
broad  croup.  Three  things  clean,  —  clean  skin, 
clean  eyes,  and  clean  hoofs.  Then  the  nostrils 


Cecil  and  Edgar  33 

must  be  quite  black.  If  there  had  been  any 
white  in  the  nostrils  of  Candace,  I  would  have 
ranked  her  only  '  middling.'  " 

Kate  laughed  pleasantly,  and  said  over  several 
times  the  long,  short,  broad,  and  clean  points 
that  went  to  the  making  of  a  thoroughbred ;  and, 
by  the  time  the  lesson  was  learned,  they  were 
at  the  door  of  the  Manor-house.  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing  stood  just  within  it,  and  when  Kate  said,  — 

"Mother,  this  is  Edgar's  friend,  Mr.  Cecil 
North,"  she  gave  him  her  hand  and  answered : 

"  Come  in  !  Come  in  !  Indeed  I  am  fain  and 
glad  to  see  you  !  "  and  all  the  way  through  the 
great  hall,  and  into  her  parlour,  she  was  beaming 
and  uttering  welcomes.  "  First  of  all,  you  must 
have  a  bit  of  eating  and  drinking,"  she  said,  "  and 
then  you  will  tell  me  about  my  boy." 

"  Thank  you.  I  will  take  a  glass  of  ale,  if  it 
will  please  you." 

"  It  will  please  me  beyond  everything.  You 
shall  have  it  from  the  Squire's  special  tap : 
ale  smooth  as  oil,  sweet  as  milk,  clear  as  amber, 
fourteen  years  old  next  twenty-ninth  of  March. 
And  so  you  know  my  son  Edgar?  " 

"  I  know  him,  and  I  love  him  with  all  my  heart. 
He  is  as  good  as  gold,  and  as  true  as  steel." 

"  To  be  sure,  he  is.  I  'm  his  mother,  and  I 
ought  to  know  him;  and  that  is  what  I  say. 
How  did  you  come  together?" 

"  We  met  first  at  Cambridge ;  but  we  were  not 
in  the  same  college  or  set,  so  that  I  only  knew 
3 


34     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

him  slightly  there.  Fortune  had  appointed  a 
nobler  introduction  for  us.  I  was  in  Glasgow 
nearly  a  year  ago,  and  I  wandered  down  to  the 
Green,  and  was  soon  aware  that  the  crowd  was 
streaming  to  one  point.  Edgar  was  talking  to 
this  crowd.  Have  you  ever  heard  him  talk  to  a 
crowd?" 

The  mother  shook  her  head,  and  Kate  said 
softly:  "We  have  never  heard  him."  She  had 
taken  off  her  hat,  and  her  face  was  full  of  interest 
and  happy  expectation. 

"Well,"  continued  North,  "he  was  standing  on 
a  platform  of  rough  boards  that  had  been  hastily 
put  together,  and  I  remembered  instantly  his 
tall,  strong,  graceful  figure,  and  his  bright,  pur- 
poseful face.  He  was  tanned  to  the  temples,  his 
cheeks  were  flushed,  the  wind  was  in  his  hair, 
the  sunlight  in  his  eyes ;  and,  with  fiery  precipi- 
tance of  assailing  words,  he  was  explaining  to 
men  mad  with  hunger  and  injustice  the  source 
of  all  their  woes  and  the  remedy  to  be  applied. 
I  became  a  man  as  I  listened  to  him.  That  hour 
I  put  self  behind  me  and  vowed  my  life,  and  all 
I  have,  to  the  cause  of  Reform;  because  he 
showed  me  plainly  that  Parliamentary  Reform 
included  the  righting  of  every  social  wrong  and 
cruelty." 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  "  asked  Kate. 

"  Indeed,  I  am  sure  of  it.  A  Parliament  that 
represented  the  great  middle  and  working  classes 
of  England  would  quickly  do  away  with  both 


Cecil  and  Edgar  35 

black  and  white  slavery,  —  would  repeal  those  in- 
famous Corn  Laws  which  have  starved  the  working- 
man  to  make  rich  the  farmer ;  would  open  our 
ports  freely  to  the  trade  of  all  the  world ;  would 
educate  the  poor;  give  much  shorter  hours  of 
labour,  and  wages  that  a  man  could  live  on.  Can 
I  ever  forget  that  hour?  Never!  I  was  born 
again  in  it !  " 

"  That  was  the  kind  of  talk  that  he  angered 
his  father  with,"  said  Mrs.  Atheling,  between 
tears  and  smiles.  "You  see  it  was  all  against 
the  land  and  the  land-owners ;  and  Edgar  would 
not  be  quiet,  no  matter  what  I  said  to  him." 

"  He  could  not  be  quiet.  He  had  no  right  to 
be  quiet.  Why !  he  sent  every  man  and  woman 
home  that  night  with  hope  in  their  hearts  and  a 
purpose  in  their  wretched  lives.  Oh,  if  you 
could  have  seen  those  sad,  cold  faces  light  and 
brighten  as  they  listened  to  him." 

"  Was  there  no  one  there  that  did  n't  think  as 
he  did?" 

"  I  heard  only  one  dissenting  voice.  It  came 
from  a  Minister.  He  called  out,  '  Lads  and  lasses, 
take  no  heed  of  what  this  fellow  says  to  you.  He 
is  nothing  but  a  Dreamer.'  Instantly  Edgar  took 
up  the  word.  '  A  Dreamer  ! '  he  cried  joyfully.  '  So 
be  it!  What  says  the  old  Hebrew  prophet? 
Look  to  your  Bible,  sir.  Let  him  that  hath  a 
dream  tell  it.  Dreamers  have  been  the  creators, 
the  leaders,  the  saviours  of  the  world.  And  we 
will  go  on  dreaming  until  our  dream  comes  true ! ' 


36     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

The  crowd  answered  him  with  a  sob  and  a  shout  — 
and,  oh,  I  wish  you  had  been  there ! " 

Kate  uttered  involuntarily  a  low,  sympathetic 
cry  that  she  could  not  control,  and  Mrs.  Atheling 
wept  and  smiled;  and  when  North  added,  in  a 
lower  voice  full  of  feeling,  "  There  is  no  one  like 
Edgar,  and  I  love  him  as  Jonathan  loved  David  !  " 
she  went  straight  to  the  speaker,  took  both  his 
hands  in  hers,  and  kissed  him. 

*  Thou  art  the  same  as  a  son  to  me, "  she  said, 
"  and  thou  mayst  count  on  my  love  as  long  as 
ever  thou  livest."  And  in  this  cry  from  her  heart 
she  forgot  her  company  pronoun,  and  fell  nat- 
urally into  the  familiar  and  affectionate  "  thou." 

Fortunately  at  this  point  of  intense  emotion  a 
servant  entered  with  a  flagon  of  the  famous  ale, 
and  some  bread  and  cheese;  and  the  little  inter- 
ruption enabled  all  to  bring  themselves  to  a  nor- 
mal state  of  feeling.  Then  the  mother  thought 
of  Edgar's  clothing,  and  asked  North  if  he  could 
take  it  to  him.  North  smiled.  "He  is  a  little  of 
a  dandy  already,  "  he  answered.  "  I  saw  him  last 
week  at  Lady  Durham's,  and  he  was  the  best 
dressed  man  in  her  saloon." 

"  Now  then !  "  said  Mrs.  Atheling,  "  thou  art 
joking  a  bit.  Whatever  would  Edgar  be  doing  at 
Lady  Durham's?" 

"  He  had  every  right  there,  as  he  is  one  of 
Lord  Durham's  confidential  secretaries." 

"Art  thou  telling  me  some  romance?" 

"  I  am  telling  you  the  simple  truth." 


Cecil  and  Edgar  37 

"Then  them  must  tell  me  how  such  a  thing 
came  about." 

"  Very  naturally.  I  told  Lord  Grey  and  his 
son-in-law,  Lord  Durham,  about  Edgar  —  and  I 
persuaded  Edgar  to  come  and  speak  to  the  spur 
and  saddle-makers  at  Ripon  Cross ;  and  the  two 
lords  heard  him  with  delight,  and  took  him,  there 
and  then,  to  Studley  Royal,  where  they  were  stay- 
ing; and  it  was  in  those  glorious  gardens,  and 
among  the  ruins  of  Fountains  Abbey,  they  planned 
together  the  Reform  Campaign  for  the  next 
Parliament." 

"  The  Squire  thinks  little  of  Lord  Grey,"  said 
Mrs.  Atheling. 

"  That  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,"  answered 
North.  "  Lord  Grey  is  the  head  and  heart  of 
Reform.  When  he  was  Mr.  Charles  Grey,  and  the 
pupil  of  Fox,  he  presented  to  Parliament  the 
famous  Prayer,  from  the  Society  of  Friends,  for  Re- 
form. That  was  thirty-seven  years  ago,  but  he  has 
never  since  lost  sight  of  his  object.  By  the  side  of 
such  leaders  as  Burke,  and  Fox,  and  Sheridan,  his 
lofty  eloquence  has  charmed  the  House  until 
the  morning  sun  shone  on  its  ancient  tapestries. 
He  and  his  son-in-law,  Lord  Durham,  have  the 
confidence  of  every  honest  man  in  England.  And 
he  is  brave  as  he  is  true.  More  than  once  he 
has  had  the  courage  to  tell  the  King  to  his  face 
what  it  was  his  duty  to  do." 

"  And  what  of  Lord  Durham?  "  asked  Kate. 

"  He  is  a  masterful  man,  —  a  bolder  Radical  than 


38     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

most  Radicals.  All  over  the  country  he  is  known 
as  Radical  Jack.  He  has  a  strong,  resolute  will, 
but  during  the  last  half-year  he  has  leaned  in  all 
executive  matters  upon  '  Mr.  Atheling.'  Indeed, 
there  was  enthusiastic  talk  last  week  at  Lady 
Durham's  of  sending  '  Mr.  Atheling '  to  the  next 
Parliament." 

"  My  word !  But  that  would  never  do !  "  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Atheling's  mother.  "  His  father  is 
going  there  for  the  landed  interest;  and  if  Edgar 
goes  for  the  people,  there  will  be  trouble  between 
them.  They  will  get  to  talking  back  at  each  other, 
and  the  Squire  will  pontify  and  lay  down  the  law, 
even  if  the  King  and  the  Law-makers  are  all 
present.  He  will  indeed  !  " 

"  It  would  be  an  argument  worth  hearing,  for 
Edgar  would  neither  lose  his  temper  nor  his 
cause.  Oh,  I  tell  you  there  will  be  great  doings 
in  London  next  winter  !  The  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton and  Mr.  Peel  will  have  to  go  out ;  and  Earl 
Grey  will  surely  form  a  new  Government." 

"The  Squire  says  Earl  Grey  and  Reform  will 
bring  us  into  civil  war." 

"  On  the  contrary,  only  Reform  can  prevent 
civil  war.  Hitherto,  the  question  has  been, '  What 
will  the  Lords  do?'  Now  it  is,  'What  must  be 
done  with  the  Lords?'  For  once,  all  England  is 
in  dead  earnest ;  and  the  cry  everywhere  is,  '  The 
Bill,  the  whole  Bill,  and  nothing  but  The  Bill !  ' 
And  if  we  win,  as  win  we  must,  we  shall  remem- 
ber how  Edgar  Atheling  has  championed  the 


Cecil  and  Edgar  39 

cause.  George  the  Fourth  is  on  his  death-bed," 
he  added  in  a  lower  voice.  "  He  will  leave  his 
kingdom  in  a  worse  plight  than  any  king  before 
him.  I,  who  have  been  through  the  land,  may 
declare  so  much." 

"  The  poor  are  very  poor  indeed,"  said  Mrs. 
Atheling.  "  Kate  and  I  do  what  we  can,  but  the 
most  is  little." 

"  The  whole  story  of  the  poor  is  —  slow  starva- 
tion. The  best  silk  weavers  in  England  are  not 
able  to  make  more  than  eight  or  nine  shillings  a 
week.  Thousands  of  men  in  the  large  towns  are 
working  for  two-pence  half-penny  a  day;  and 
thousands  have  no  work  at  all." 

"  What  do  they  do  ?  "  whispered  Kate. 

"  They  die.  But  I  did  not  come  here  to  talk 
on  these  subjects  —  only  when  the  heart  is  full, 
the  mouth  must  speak.  I  have  brought  a  letter 
and  a  remembrance  from  Edgar,"  and  he  took 
from  his  pocket  a  letter  and  two  gold  rings,  and 
gave  the  letter  and  one  ring  to  Mrs.  Atheling, 
and  the  other  ring  to  Kate.  "  He  bid  me  tell 
you,"  said  North,  "  that  some  day  he  will  set  the 
gold  round  with  diamonds ;  but  now  every  penny 
goes  for  Reform." 

"  And  you  tell  Edgar,  sir,  that  his  mother  is 
prouder  of  the  gold  thread  than  of  diamonds. 
Tell  him,  she  holds  her  Reform  ring  next  to 
her  wedding  ring,"  —  and  with  the  words  Mrs. 
Atheling  drew  off  her  "  guard  "  of  rubies,  and  put 
the  slender  thread  of  gold  her  son  had  sent  her 


40     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

next  her  wedding  ring.  At  the  same  moment 
Kate  slipped  upon  her  "  heart  finger  "  the  golden 
token.  Her  face  shone,  her  voice  was  like  music : 
"  Tell  Edgar,  Mr.  North,"  she  said,  "  that  my 
love  for  him  is  like  this  ring:  I  do  not  know  its 
beginning;  but  I  do  know  it  can  have  no  end." 

Then  North  rose  to  go,  and  would  not  be  de- 
tained ;  and  the  women  walked  with  him  to  the 
very  gates,  and  there  they  said  "  good-bye."  And 
all  the  way  through  the  garden  Mrs.  Atheling 
was  sending  tender  messages  to  her  boy,  though 
at  the  last  she  urged  North  to  warn  him  against 
saying  anything  "beyond  bearing"  to  his  father, 
if  they  should  meet  on  the  battle-ground  of  the 
House  of  Commons.  "  It  is  so  easy  to  quarrel 
on  politics,"  she  said  with  all  the  pathos  of  remin- 
iscent disputes. 

"  It  has  always  been  an  easy  quarrel,  I  think," 
answered  North.  "  Don't  you  remember  when 
Joseph  wanted  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  his  breth- 
ren, he  pretended  to  think  they  were  a  special 
commission  sent  to  Egypt  to  spy  out  the  naked- 
ness of  the  land  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure !  And  that  is  a  long  time  ago. 
Good-bye !  and  God  bless  thee !  I  shall  never 
forget  thy  visit !  " 

"  And  we  wish  '  The  Cause  '  success  !  "  added 
Kate. 

"  Thank  you.  Success  will  come.  They  who 
care  and  dare  can  do  anything."  With  these 
words  he  passed  through  the  gates,  and  Mrs. 


Cecil  and  Edgar  41 

Atheling  and  Kate  went  slowly  back  to  the 
house,  both  of  them  turning  the  new  ring  on 
their  fingers.  It  was  dinner-time,  but  little  din- 
ner was  eaten.  Edgar's  letter  was  to  read ;  Mr. 
North  to  speculate  about;  and  if  either  of  the 
women  remembered  Lord  Exham's  expected  call, 
no  remark  was  made  about  it. 

Yet  Kate  was  neither  forgetful  of  the  visit,  nor 
indifferent  to  it.  A  sweet  trouble  of  heart,  half- 
fear  and  half-hope,  flushed  her  cheeks  and  sent  a 
tender  light  into  her  star-like  eyes.  In  the  very 
depths  of  her  being  there  existed  a  feeling  she 
did  not  understand,  and  did  not  investigate. 
Was  it  Memory?  Was  it  Hope?  Was  it  Love? 
She  asked  none  of  these  questions.  But  she 
dressed  like  a  girl  in  a  dream;  and  just  as  she 
was  sliding  the  silver  buckle  on  her  belt,  a  sud- 
den trick  of  memory  brought  back  to  her  the 
rhyme  of  her  childhood.  And  though  she 
blushed  to  the  remembrance,  and  would  not  for 
anything  repeat  the  words,  her  heart  sang  softly 
to  itself,  — 

"  It  may  so  happen,  it  may  so  fall, 
That  I  shall  be  Lady  of  Exham  Hall.'* 


42       I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 


CHAPTER  THIRD 

THE  LORD   OF  EXHAM 

ON  the  very  edge  of  the  deep,  tumbling  becks 
which  feed  the  Esk  stands  Exham  Hall.  It  is  a 
stately,  irregular  building  of  gray  stone;  and 
when  the  sunshine  is  on  its  many  windows,  and 
the  flag  of  Richmoor  flying  from  its  central 
tower,  it  looks  gaily  down  into  the  hearts  of 
many  valleys,  where 

"  The  oak,  and  the  ash,  and  the  bonny  ivy-tree, 
Flourish  at  home  in  the  North  Countree." 

Otherwise,  it  has,  at  a  distance,  a  stern  and  forbid- 
ding aspect.  For  it  is  in  a  great  solitude,  and  the 
babble  of  the  beck,  and  the  cawing  of  the  rooks, 
are  the  only  sounds  that  usually  break  the 
silence.  The  north  part  was  built  in  A.  D.  1320; 
and  the  most  modern  part  in  the  reign  of  James 
the  First ;  and  yet  so  well  has  it  stood  the  wear 
and  tear  of  elemental  and  human  life  in  this 
secluded  Yorkshire  vale  that  it  does  not  appear 
to  be  above  a  century  old. 

It  was  usually  tenanted  either  by  the  dowager 
of  the  family,  or  the  heir  of  the  dukedom ;  and 
it  had  been  opened  at  this  time  to  receive  its 


The  Lord  of  Exham          43 

young  lord  on  his  return  from  Italy.  So  it  hap- 
pened that  at  the  very  hour  when  Mrs.  and  Miss 
Atheling  were  talking  with  Cecil  North,  Piers 
Exham  was  sitting  in  a  parlour  of  Exham  Hall, 
thinking  of  Kate,  and  recalling  the  events  of 
their  acquaintanceship.  It  had  begun  when  he 
was  seventeen  years  old,  and  Kate  Atheling 
exactly  twelve.  Indeed,  because  it  was  her  birth- 
day, she  was  permitted  to  accompany  an  old 
servant  going  to  Exham  Hall  to  visit  the  house- 
keeper, who  was  her  cousin. 

This  event  made  a  powerful  impression  on 
Kate's  imagination.  It  was  like  a  visit  to  some 
enchanted  castle.  She  felt  all  its  glamour  and 
mystery  as  soon  as  her  small  feet  trod  the  vast 
entrance  hall  with  its  hangings  of  Arras  tapestry, 
and  its  flags  and  weapons  from  every  English 
battlefield.  Her  fingers  touched  lightly  standards 
from  Crecy,  and  Agincourt,  and  the  walls  of 
Jerusalem ;  and  her  heart  throbbed  to  the  touch. 
And  as  she  climbed  the  prodigiously  wide  stair- 
case of  carved  and  polished  oak,  she  thought  of 
the  generations  of  knights,  and  lords  and  ladies, 
who  had  gone  up  and  down  it,  and  wondered 
where  they  were.  And  oh,  the  marvellous  old 
rooms  with  their  shadowy  portraits,  and  their 
treasures  from  countries  far  away  !  —  shells,  and 
carved  ivories,  and  sandalwood  boxes ;  strange 
perfumes,  and  old  idols,  melancholy,  fantastic, 
odd ;  musky-smelling  things  from  Asia ;  and  or- 
naments and  pottery  from  Africa,  their  gloomy, 


44     I>  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

primitive  simplicity,  mingling  with  pretty  French 
trifles,  and  Italian  bronzes,  and  costly  bits  of 
china. 

It  was  all  like  an  Arabian  Night's  adventure, 
and  hardly  needed  the  touches  of  romance  and 
superstition  the  housekeeper  quite  incidentally 
threw  in :  thus,  as  they  passed  a  very,  very  tall 
old  clock  with  a  silver  dial  on  a  golden  face,  she 
said:  "Happen,  you  would  not  believe  it,  but  on 
every  tenth  of  June,  a  cold  queer  light  travels  all 
round  that  dial.  It  begins  an  hour  past  mid- 
night, and  stops  at  an  hour  past  noon.  I've  seen 
it  myself  a  score  of  times."  And  again,  in  going 
through  a  state  bed-room,  she  pointed  out  a 
cross  and  a  candlestick,  and  said,  "They  are 
made  from  bits  of  a  famous  ship  that  was  blown 
up  with  an  Exham,  fighting  on  the  Spanish 
Main.  I  Ve  heard  tell  that  candles  were  once 
lighted  in  that  stick  on  his  birthday ;  but  there 's 
been  no  candle-lighting  for  a  century,  anyway." 
And  Kate  thought  it  was  a  shame,  and  wished  she 
knew  his  birthday,  and  might  light  candles  again 
in  honour  of  the  hero. 

With  such  sights  and  tales,  her  childish  head 
and  heart  were  filled ;  and  the  mazy  gardens, 
with  their  monkish  fish-ponds  and  hedges,  their 
old  sun-dials  and  terraces,  their  ripening  berries 
and  gorgeous  flower-beds,  completed  her  fascina- 
tion. She  went  back  to  Atheling  ravished  and 
spellbound;  toe  wrapt  and  charmed  to  talk 
much  of  what  she  had  seen,  and  glad  when  she 


The  Lord  of  Exham  45 

could  escape  into  the  Atheling  garden  to  think  it 
all  over  again.  She  went  straight  to  her  swing. 
It  was  hung  between  two  large  ash-trees,  and 
there  were  high  laurel  hedges  on  each  side.  In 
this  solitude  she  sat  down  to  remember,  and,  as 
she  did  so,  began  to  swing  gently  to-and-fro,  and 
to  sing  to  her  movement, — 

"  It  may  so  happen,  it  may  so  fall, 
That  I  shall  be  Lady  of  Exham  Hall." 

And  as  she  sung  these  lines  over  and  over  — 
being  much  pleased  with  their  unexpected  rhym- 
ing —  the  young  Lord  of  Exham  Hall  came 
through  Atheling  garden.  He  heard  his  own 
name,  and  stood  still  to  listen;  then  he  softly 
parted  the  laurel  bushes,  and  watched  the  little 
maid,  and  heard  her  sing  her  couplet,  and  mer- 
rily laugh  to  herself  as  she  did  so.  And  he  saw 
how  beautiful  she  was,  and  there  came  into  his 
heart  a  singular  warmth  and  pleasure ;  but,  with- 
out discovering  himself  to  the  girl,  he  delivered 
his  message  to  Squire  Atheling,  and  rode  away. 

The  next  morning,  however,  he  managed  to 
carry  his  fishing-rod  to  the  same  beck  where 
Edgar  Atheling  was  casting  his  line,  and  to 
so  charm  the  warm-hearted  youth  that  meeting 
after  meeting  grew  out  of  it.  Nor  was  it  long 
until  the  friendship  of  the  youths  included  that 
of  the  girl ;  so  that  it  was  a  very  ordinary  thing 
for  Kate  to  go  with  her  brother  and  Piers  Exham 
to  the  hill-streams  for  trout.  As  the  summer 


46     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

grew  they  tossed  the  hay  together,  and  rode  after 
the  harvest  wagons,  and  danced  at  the  Ingather- 
ing Feast,  and  dressed  the  ancient  church  at 
Christmastide,  and  so,  with  ever-increasing  kind- 
ness and  interest,  shared  each  other's  joy  and 
sorrows  for  nearly  two  years. 

Then  there  was  a  break  in  the  happy  routine. 
Kate  put  on  long  dresses ;  she  was  going  to  a 
fine  ladies'  school  in  York  to  be  "  finished,"  and 
Edgar  also  was  entered  at  Cambridge.  Piers  was 
to  go  to  Oxford.  He  begged  to  go  to  Cambridge 
with  his  friend ;  but  the  Duke  approved  the  Tory 
principles  of  his  own  University,  and  equally 
disapproved  of  those  of  Cambridge,  which  he 
declared  were  deeply  tainted  with  Whig  and 
even  Radical  ideas.  Perhaps  also  he  was  inclined 
to  break  up  the  close  friendship  between  the 
Athelings  and  his  heir.  "No  one  can  be  in- 
sensible to  the  beauty  of  Kate  Atheling,"  he  said 
to  the  Duchess ;  "  and  Piers'  constant  association 
with  such  a  lovely  girl  may  not  be  without 
danger."  The  Duchess  smiled  at  the  supposi- 
tion. A  royal  princess,  in  her  estimation,  was 
not  above  her  son's  deserts  and  expectations; 
and  the  Squire's  little  home-bred  girl  was  be- 
neath either  her  fears  or  her  suppositions.  This 
also  was  the  tone  in  which  she  received  all  her 
son's  conversation  about  the  Athelings.  "  Very 
nice  people,  I  dare  say,  Piers,"  she  would  remark ; 
"  and  I  am  glad  you  have  such  thoroughly  re- 
spectable companions;  but  you  will,  of  course, 


The  Lord  of  Exham  47 

forget  them  when  you  go  to  College,  and  begin 
your  independent  life."  And  there  was  such  an 
air  of  finality  in  these  assertions  that  it  was  only 
rarely  Piers  had  the  spirit  to  answer,  "  Indeed,  I 
shall  never  forget  them  !  " 

So  it  happened  that  the  last  few  weeks  of  their 
friendship  missed  much  of  the  easy  familiarity 
and  sweet  confidence  that  had  hitherto  marked 
its  every  change.  Kate,  with  the  new  conscious- 
ness of  dawning  womanhood,  was  shy,  less  frank, 
and  less  intimate.  Strangers  began  to  call  her 
"  Miss "  Atheling ;  and  there  were  hours  when 
the  little  beauty's  airs  of  maidenly  pride  and 
reserve  made  Piers  feel  that  any  other  address 
would  be  impertinent.  And  this  change  had 
come,  no  one  knew  how,  only  it  was  there,  and 
not  to  be  gainsaid ;  and  every  day's  events 
added  some  trifling  look,  or  word,  or  act  which 
widened  the  space  between  them,  though  the 
space  itself  was  full  of  sweet  and  kindly  hours. 

Then  there  came  a  day  in  autumn  when  Kate 
was  to  leave  her  home  for  the  York  school. 
Edgar  was  already  in  Cambridge.  Piers  was  to 
enter  Oxford  the  following  week.  This  chapter 
of  life  was  finished ;  and  the  three  happy  souls 
that  had  made  it,  were  to  separate.  Piers,  who 
had  a  poetic  nature,  and  was  really  in  love  — 
though  he  suspected  it  not — was  most  im- 
pressed with  the  passing  away.  He  could  not 
keep  from  Atheling,  and  though  he  had  bid 
Kate  "  good  -bye  "  in  the  afternoon,  he  was  not 


48     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

satisfied  with  the  parting.  She  had  then  been 
full  of  business :  the  Squire  was  addressing  her 
trunks ;  Mrs.  Atheling  crimping  the  lace  frill  of 
her  muslin  tippets;  and  Kate  herself  bringing, 
one  by  one,  some  extra  trifle  that  at  the  last 
moment  impressed  her  with  its  necessity.  It 
was  in  this  hurry  of  household  love  and  care 
that  he  had  said  "  good-bye,"  and  he  felt  that  it 
had  been  a  mere  form. 

Perhaps  Kate  felt  it  also;  for  when  he  rode 
up  to  Atheling  gates  in  the  gloaming,  he  saw 
her  sauntering  up  the  avenue.  He  thought 
there  was  both  melancholy  and  expectation  in 
her  attitude  and  air.  He  tied  his  horse  outside, 
and  joined  her.  She  met  him  with  a  smile.  He 
took  her  hand,  and  she  permitted  him  to  retain 
it.  He  said,  "  Kate ! "  and  she  answered  the 
word  with  a  glance  that  made  him  joyous, 
ardent,  hopeful.  He  was  too  happy  to  speak; 
he  feared  to  break  the  heavenly  peace  between 
them  by  a  word.  Oh,  this  is  the  way  of  Love ! 
But  neither  knew  the  ways  of  Love.  They  were 
after  all  but  children,  and  the  sweet  thoughts  in 
their  hearts  had  not  come  to  speech.  They 
wandered  about  the  garden  until  the  gloaming 
became  moonlight,  and  they  heard  Mrs.  Atheling 
calling  her  daughter.  Then  their  eyes  met,  and, 
swift  as  the  firing  of  a  gun,  their  pupils  dilated 
and  flashed  with  tender  feeling;  over  their 
faces  rushed  the  crimson  blood ;  and  Piers  said 
sorrowfully,  "  Kate !  Sweet  Kate !  I  shall  never 


The  Lord  of  Exham  49 

forget  you  !  "  He  raised  the  hand  he  held  to 
his  lips,  kissed  it,  and  went  hurriedly  away 
from  her. 

Kate  was  not  able  to  say  a  word,  but  she 
felt  the  kiss  on  her  hand  through  all  her  sleep 
and  dreams  that  night.  Indeed  five  years  of 
change  and  absence  had  not  chilled  its  warm 
remembrance;  there  were  hours  when  it  was 
still  a  real  expression,  when  the  hand  itself  was 
conscious  of  the  experience,  and  willingly  cher- 
ished it.  All  through  Cecil  North's  visit,  she 
had  been  aware  of  a  sense  of  expectancy.  In- 
terested as  she  was  in  Edgar,  the  thought  of 
Lord  Exham  would  not  be  put  down.  For  a 
short  time  it  was  held  in  abeyance ;  but  when 
the  early  dinner  was  over,  and  she  was  in  the 
solitude  of  her  own  .room,  Piers  put  Edgar  out 
of  consideration.  As  she  sat  brushing  and 
dressing  her  long  brown  hair,  she  recalled  little 
incidents  concerning  Piers, —  how  once  in  the 
harvest-field  her  hair  had  tumbled  down,  and 
Piers  praised  its  tangled  beauty;  how  he  had 
liked  this  and  the  other  dress ;  how  he  had 
praised  her  dancing,  and  vowed  she  was  the 
best  rider  in  the  county.  He  had  given  her  a 
little  gold  brooch  for  a  Christmas  present,  and 
she  took  it  from  its  box,  and  said  to  herself  she 
would  wear  it,  and  see  if  it  evoked  its  own 
memory  in  Exham's  heart. 

It  had  been  her  intention  to  put  on  a  white 
gown,  but  the  day  darkened  and  chilled ;  and 

4 


50     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

then  she  had  a  certain  shyness  about  betraying, 
even  to  her  mother,  her  anxiety  to  look  beauti- 
ful. Perhaps  Piers  might  not  now  think  her 
beautiful  in  any  garb.  Perhaps  he  had  forgotten 
—  everything.  So,  impelled  by  a  kind  of  per- 
verse indifference,  she  wore  only  the  gray  woollen 
gown  that  was  her  usual  afternoon  attire.  But 
the  fashion  of  the  day  left  her  lovely  arms  un- 
covered, and  only  veiled  her  shoulders  in  a 
shadowing  tippet  of  lace.  She  fastened  this 
tippet  with  the  little  gold  brooch,  just  where  the 
folds  crossed  the  bosom.  She  had  hastened 
rather  than  delayed  her  dressing;  and  when 
Mrs.  Atheling  came  downstairs  in  her  afternoon 
black  silk  dress,  she  found  Kate  already  in  the 
parlour.  She  had  taken  from  her  work-box  a 
piece  of  fine  cambric,  and  was  stitching  it  indus- 
triously ;  and  Mrs.  Atheling  lifted  her  own  work, 
and  began  to  talk  of  Edgar,  and  Edgar's  great 
fortune,  and  what  his  father  would  say  about  it. 
This  subject  soon  absorbed  her;  she  forgot 
everything  in  it;  but  Kate  heard  through  all 
the  radical  turmoil  of  the  conversation  the 
gallop  of  a  strange  horse  on  the  gravelled 
avenue,  and  the  echo  of  strange  footsteps  on 
the  flagged  halls  of  the  house. 

In  the  middle  of  some  grand  prophecy  for 
Edgar's  future,  the  parlour  door  was  opened,  and 
Lord  Exham  entered.  He  came  forward  with 
something  of  his  boyhood's  enthusiasm,  and 
took  Mrs.  Atheling's  hands,  and  said  a  few 


words  of  pleasant  greeting,  indistinctly  heard 
in  the  fluttering  gladness  of  Mrs.  Atheling's 
reception.  Then  he  turned  to  Kate.  She  had 
risen,  but  she  held  her  work  in  her  left  hand. 
He  took  it  from  her,  and  laid  it  on  her  work- 
box,  and  then  clasped  both  her  hands  in  his. 
The  firm,  lingering  pressure  had  its  own  elo- 
quence. In  matters  of  love,  they  who  are  to 
understand,  do  understand;  and  no  interpreter 
is  needed. 

The  conversation  then  became  general  and 
full  of  interest;  but  from  Oxford,  and  France, 
and  Italy,  it  quickly  drifted  —  as  all  conversation 
did  in  those  days  —  to  Reform.  And  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing  could  not  keep  the  news  that  had  come  to 
her  that  day.  She  magnified  Edgar  with  a  sweet 
motherly  vanity  that  was  delightful,  and  to 
which  Piers  listened  with  pleasure ;  for  the 
listening  gave  him  opportunity  to  watch  Kate's 
eloquent  face,  and  to  flash  his  sympathy  into  it. 
He  thought  her  marvellously  beautiful.  Her 
shining  hair,  her  rich  colouring,  and  her  large 
gray  eyes  were  admirably  emphasised  by  the 
homely  sweetness  of  her  dress.  After  the  lavish 
proportions,  and  gaily  attired  women  of  Italy, 
nothing  could  have  been  more  enchanting  to 
Piers  Exham  than  -Kate's  subdued,  gray-eyed 
loveliness,  clad  in  gray  garments.  The  charm- 
ing background  of  her  picturesque  home  added 
to  this  effect;  and  this  background  he  saw  and 
realised ;  but  she  had  also  a  moral  background 


52     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

of  purity  and   absolute   sincerity  which  he  did 
not  see,  but  which  he  undoubtedly  felt. 

While  Piers  was  experiencing  this  revelation  of 
womanhood,  it  was  not  likely  Kate  was  without 
impressions.  In  his  early  youth,  Exham  had  a 
slight  resemblance  to  Lord  Byron;  and  he  had 
been  vain  of  the  likeness,  and  accentuated  it  by 
adopting  the  open  collar,  loose  tie,  and  other 
peculiarities  of  the  poetic  nobleman.  Kate  was 
glad  to  see  this  servile  imitation  had  been  dis- 
carded. Exham  was  now  emphatically  individual. 
He  was  not  above  medium  height;  but  his 
figure  was  good,  and  his  manner  gentle  and 
courteous,  as  the  manner  of  all  superior  men  is. 
Grave  and  high-bred,  he  had^also  much  of  the 
melancholy,  mythical  air  of  an  English  nobleman, 
conscious  of  long  antecedents,  and  dwelling  in 
the  seclusion  of  shaded  parks,  and  great  houses 
steeped  in  the  human  aura  of  centuries.  His 
hair  was  very  black,  and  worn  rather  long,  and 
his  complexion,  a  pale  bronze;  but  this  lack  of 
red  colouring  added  to  the  fascination  of  his  dark 
eyes,  which  were  remarkable  for  that  deep  glow 
always  meaning  mental  or  moral  power  of  some 
kind.  They  were  often  half  shut  —  and  then  — 
who  could  tell  what  was  passing  behind  them? 
And  yet,  when  all  this  had  been  observed  by 
Kate,  she  was  sure  that  something  —  perhaps  the 
most  essential  part  —  had  escaped  her. 

This  latter  estimate  was  the  correct  one.     No 
one  as  yet  had  learned  the  heart  or  mind  of  Piers 


The  Lord  of  Exham  53 

Exham.  It  is  doubtful  if  he  understood  his  own 
peculiarities ;  for  he  had  few  traits  of  distinctive 
pre-eminence,  his  character  being  very  like  an 
opal,  where  all  colours  are  fused  and  veiled  in  a 
radiant  dimness.  So  that,  after  all,  this  meeting 
was  a  first  meeting ;  and  Kate  did  not  feel  that 
the  past  offered  her  any  intelligible  solution  of 
the  present  man. 

The  conversation  having  drifted  to  Edgar  and 
Reform,  stayed  there.  Lord  Exham  spoke  with  a 
polite,  but  stubborn  emphasis  in  favour  of  his  own 
caste,  as  the  governing  caste,  and  thought  that 
the  honour  and  welfare  of  England  might  still 
be  left  "  to  those  great  Houses  which  represented 
the  collective  wisdom  of  the  nation."  Nor  was 
he  disturbed  when  Mrs.  Atheling,  with  some 
scorn  and  temper,  said  "they  represented  mostly 
the  collective  folly  of  the  nation."  He  bowed 
and  smiled  at  the  dictum,  but  Kate  understood 
the  smile;  it  was  of  that  peculiarly  sweet  kind 
which  is  equivalent  to  having  the  last  word.  He 
admitted  that  some  things  wanted  changing,  but 
he  said,  "  Changes  could  not  be  manufactured ; 
they  must  grow."  "  True,"  replied  Kate,  "  but 
Reform  has  been  growing  for  sixty  years."  "  That 
is  as  it  should  be,"  he  continued.  "  You  cannot 
write  Reforms  on  human  beings,  as  you  write  it 
on  paper.  Two  or  three  generations  are  not 
enough."  In  all  that  was  said  —  and  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing said  some  very  strong  things  —  he  took  a 
polite  interest ;  but  he  made  no  surrender.  Even 


54     I>  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

if  his  words  were  conciliatory,  Kate  saw  in  his 
eyes  —  languid  but  obstinately  masterful  —  the 
stubborn,  headstrong  will  of  a  man  who  had  in- 
herited his  prejudices,  and  who  had  considered 
them  in  the  light  of  his  interest,  and  did  not 
choose  to  bring  them  to  the  light  of  reason. 

Still  the  conversation  was  a  satisfactory  and 
delightful  vehicle  of  human  revelation.  The  two 
women  paled  and  flushed,  and  grew  sad  or  happy 
in  its  possibilities,  with  a  charming  frankness. 
No  social  subject  could  have  revealed  them  so 
completely;  and  Exham  enjoyed  the  disclosures 
of  feeling  which  this  passionate  interest  evoked, 
—  enjoyed  it  so  much  that  he  forgot  the  lapse  of 
time,  and  stayed  till  tea  was  ready,  and  then  was 
delighted  to  stay  and  take  it  with  them.  Mrs. 
Atheling  was  usually  relieved  of  the  duty  of  mak- 
ing it  by  Kate;  and  Piers  could  not  keep  his 
glowing  eyes  off  the  girl  as  her  hands  moved 
about  the  exquisite  Derby  teacups,  and  handed 
him  the  sweet,  refreshing  drink.  She  remembered 
that  he  loved  sugar ;  that  he  did  not  love  cream ; 
that  he  preferred  his  toast  not  buttered ;  that  he 
liked  apricot  jelly;  and  he  was  charmed  and 
astonished  at  these  proofs  of  remembrance,  so 
much  so  indeed  that  he  permitted  Mrs.  Atheling  to 
appropriate  the  whole  argument.  For  this  sweet 
hour  he  resigned  his  heart  to  be  pleased  and 
happy.  Too  wise  in  some  things,  not  wise  enough 
in  others,  Piers  Exham  had  at  least  one  great 
compensating  quality  —  the  courage  to  be  happy. 


The  Lord  of  Exham  55 

He  let  all  other  feelings  and  purposes  lapse  for 
this  one.  He  gave  himself  up  to  charm,  and  to 
be  charmed;  he  flattered  Mrs.  Atheling  into 
absolute  complaisance;  he  persuaded  Kate  to 
walk  through  the  garden  and  orchard  with  him, 
and  then,  with  caressing  voice  and  a  gentle  pres- 
sure of  the  hand,  reminded  her  of  days  and  events 
they  had  shared  together.  Smiles  flashed  from 
face  to  face.  Her  simple  sweetness,  her  ready 
sympathy,  her  ingenuous  girlish  expressions, 
carried  him  back  to  his  boyhood.  Kate  shone 
on  his  heart  like  sunshine ;  and  he  did  not  know 
that  it  had  become  dark  until  he  had  left  Athel- 
ing behind,  and  found  himself  Exham-way,  rid- 
ing rapidly  to  the  joyful  whirl  and  hurry  of  his 
thoughts. 

Now  happiness,  as  well  as  sorrow,  is  selfish. 
Kate  was  happy  and  not  disposed  to  talk  about 
her  happiness.  Her  mother's  insistent  questions 
about  Lord  Exham  troubled  her.  She  desired 
to  go  into  solitude  with  the  new  emotions  this 
wonderful  day  had  produced ;  but  the  force  of 
those  lovely  habits  of  respect  and  obedience, 
which  had  become  by  constant  practice  a  second 
nature,  kept  her  at  her  mother's  side,  listening 
with  sweet  credulousness  to  all  her  opinions,  and 
answering  her  hopes  with  her  own  assurances. 
The  reward  of  such  dutiful  deference  was  not 
long  in  coming.  In  a  short  time  Mrs.  Atheling 
said,  — 

"  It  has  been  such  a  day  as  never  was,  Kate ; 


56     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

and  you  must  be  tired.  Now  then,  go  to  bed, 
my  girl,  and  sleep ;  for  goodness  knows  when 
your  father  will  get  home !  " 

So  Kate  kissed  her  mother  —  kissed  her  twice 
—  as  if  she  was  dimly  conscious  of  unfairly  keep- 
ing back  some  pleasure,  and  would  thus  atone 
for  her  selfishness.  And  Mrs.  Atheling  sat  down 
in  the  chimney-corner  with  the  gray  stocking 
she  was  knitting,  and  pondered  her  son's  good 
fortune  for  a  while.  Then  she  rose  and  sent  the 
maids  to  bed,  putting  the  clock  an  hour  forward 
ere  she  did  so,  and  excusing  the  act  by  saying, 
"  If  I  don't  set  it  fast,  we  shall  soon  be  on  the 
wrong  side  of  everything." 

Another  hour  she  sat  calmly  knitting,  while  in 
the  dead  silence  of  the  house  the  clock's  regular 
"tick  !  tick  /"  was  like  breathing.  It  seemed  to 
live,  and  to  watch  with  her.  As  the  Squire  came 
noisily  into  the  room  it  struck  eleven.  "  My 
word,  Maude  !  "  he  said  with  great  good  humour, 
"  I  am  sorry  to  keep  you  waiting;  but  there  has 
been  some  good  work  done  to-night,  so  you 
won't  mind  it,  I  '11  warrant." 

"  Well  now,  John,  if  you  and  your  friends 
have  been  at  Pickering's,  and  have  done  any 
*  good  '  work  there,  I  will  be  astonished  !  You 
may  warrant  that  with  every  guinea  you  have." 

"  We  were  at  Rudby's.  There  were  as  many 
as  nine  landed  men  of  us  together ;  and  for  once 
there  was  one  mind  in  nine  men." 

"  That  is,  you  were  all  for  yourselves." 


The  Lord  of  Exham  57 

"  No !  Dal  it,  we  were  all  for  old  England  and 
the  Constitution  !  The  Constitution,  just  as  it  is, 
and  no  tinkering  with  it." 

"  I  wonder  which  of  the  nine  was  the  biggest 
fool  among  you  ?  " 

"  Thou  shouldst  not  talk  in  that  way,  Maude. 
The  country  is  in  real  danger  with  this  Reform 
nonsense.  Every  Reformer  ought  to  be  hung, 
and  I  wish  they  were  hung." 

"  I  would  be  ashamed  to  say  such  words, 
John.  Thou  knowest  well  that  thy  own  son  is  a 
Reformer." 

"  More  shame  to  him,  and  to  me,  and  to  thee ! 
I  would  have  brought  up  a  better  lad,  or  else 
I  would  hold  my  tongue  about  him.  It  was  thy 
fault  he  went  to  Cambridge.  I  spent  good  money 
then  to  spoil  a  fine  fellow." 

"  Now,  John  Atheling,  I  won't  have  one  word 
said  against  Edgar  in  this  house." 

"  It  is  my  house." 

"  Nay,  but  it  is  n't.  Thou  only  hast  the  life 
rent  of  it.  It  is  Edgar's  as  much  as  thine.  He 
will  be  here,  like  enough,  when  I  and  thou  have 
gone  the  way  we  shall  never  come  back." 

"  Maybe  he  will  —  and  maybe  he  will  not.  I 
can  break  the  entail  if  it  suits  me." 

"  Thou  canst  not.  For,  with  all  thy  faults,  thou 
art  an  upright  man,  and  thy  conscience  would  n't 
let  thee  do  anything  as  mean  and  spiteful  as  that. 
How  could  we  rest  in  our  graves  if  there  was 
any  one  but  an  Atheling  in  Atheling?  " 


58     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  He  is  a  disgrace  to  the  name." 

"  He  is  nothing  of  that  kind.  He  will  bring 
the  old  name  new  honour.  See  if  he  does  not ! 
And  as  for  the  Constitution  of  England,  it  is 
about  as  great  a  ruin  as  thy  constitution  was 
when  thou  hadst  rheumatic  fever,  and  could  n't 
turn  thyself,  nor  help  thyself,  nor  put  a  morsel 
of  bread  into  thy  mouth.  But  thou  hadst  a  good 
doctor,  and  he  set  thee  up ;  and  a  good  House 
of  Commons  —  Reforming  Commons  —  will  hap- 
pen do  as  much  for  the  country ;  though  when 
every  artisan  and  every  farm  labourer  is  hungry 
and  naked,  it  will  be  hard  to  spread  the  plaster 
as  far  as  the  sore.  It  would  make  thy  heart  ache 
to  hear  what  they  suffer." 

"Don't  bother  thy  head  about  weavers,  and 
cutlers,  and  artisans.  If  the  Agriculture  of  the 
country  is  taken  care  of — " 

"  Now,  John,  do  be  quiet.  There  is  not  an 
idiot  in  the  land  who  won't  talk  of  Agriculture." 

"  We  have  got  to  stick  by  the  land,  Maude." 

"  The  land  will  take  care  of  itself.  If  thou 
wouldst  only  send  for  thy  son,  and  have  a  little 
talk  with  him,  he  might  let  some  light  and 
wisdom  into  thee." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  on  such  subjects  to 
Edgar  Atheling  —  not  a  word." 

"  If  thou  goest  to  Parliament,  thou  mayst  have  to 
'  say  '  to  him,  no  matter  whether  thou  wantest  to 
or  not ;  that  is,  unless  thou  art  willing  to  let  Edgar 
have  both  sides  of  the  argument." 


The  Lord  of  Exham  59 

"  What  torn-foolery  art  thou  talking?  " 
"  I  am  only  telling  thee  that  Edgar  is  as  like 
to  go  to  Parliament  as  thou  art." 

"To  be  sure  —  when  beggars  are  kings." 
"  Earl  Grey  will  seat  him  —  or  Lord  Durham ; 
and  I  would  advise  thee  to  study  up  things  a  bit. 
There  are  new  ideas  about,  John;  and  thou 
wouldst  look  foolish  if  thy  own  son  had  to  put  any 
of  thy  mistakes  right  for  thee." 

"  I  suppose,  Maude,  thou  still  hast  a  bit  of  faith 
left  in  the  Bible.  And  I  '11  warrant  thou  knowest 
every  word  it  says  about  children  obeying  their 
parents,  and  honouring  their  parents,  and  so  on. 
And  I  can  remember  thee  telling  Edgar,  when  he 
was  a  little  lad,  about  Absalom  going  against  his 
father,  and  what  came  of  it;  now  then,  is  the 
Bible,  as  well  as  the  Constitution,  a  ruin  ?  Is  it 
good  for  nothing  but  to  be  pitched  into  limbo, 
or  to  be  '  reformed '  ?  I  'm  astonished  at  thee  !  " 

"  The  Bible  has  nothing  to  do  with  politics, 
John.  I  wish  it  had !  Happen  then  we  would 
have  a  few  wise-like,  honest  politicians.  The 
Bible  divides  men  into  good  men  and  bad  men ; 
but  thou  dividest  all  men  into  Tories  and  Radi- 
cals ;  and  the  Bible  has  nothing  to  do  with  either 
of  them.  I  can  tell  thee  that.  Nay,  but  I  'm 
wrong;  it  does  say  a  deal  about  doing  justice, 
and  loving  mercy,  and  treating  your  neighbour 
and  poor  working-folk  as  you  would  like  to  be 
treated  yourself.  Radicals  can  get  a  good  deal 
out  of  the  New  Testament." 


60     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"I  don't  believe  a  word  of  what  thou  art 
saying." 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  that.  Thou  readest  nothing 
but  the  newspapers ;  if  thou  didst  happen  to  read  a 
few  words  out  of  Christ's  own  mouth,  thou  wouldst 
say,  '  Thou  never  heardest  the  like,'  and  thou 
wouldst  think  the  man  who  quoted  them  wrote 
them  out  of  his  own  head,  and  call  him  a  Radical. 
Get  off  to  thy  bed,  John.  I  can  always  tell  when 
thou  hast  been  drinking  Rudby's  port-wine.  It  is 
too  heavy  and  heady  for  thee.  As  soon  as  thou 
art  thyself  again,  I  will  tell  thee  what  a  grand  son 
thou  art  the  father  of.  My  word  !  If  the  Duke 
gives  thee  a  seat  at  his  mahogany  two  or  three 
times  a  year,  thou  art  as  proud  as  a  peacock; 
now  then,  thy  son  Edgar  is  hob-nobbing  with 
earls  and  lords  every  day  of  his  life,  and  they 
are  proud  of  his  company." 

The  Squire  laughed  boisterously.  "  It  is  time, 
Maude,"  he  said,  "  I  went  to  my  bed ;  and  it  is 
high  time  for  thee  to  wake  up  and  get  thy  head 
on  a  feather  pillow ;  then,  perhaps,  thou  will  not 
dream  such  raving  nonsense." 

With  these  scornful  words  he  left  the  room, 
and  Mrs.  Atheling  rose  and  put  away  her  knit- 
ting. She  was  satisfied  with  herself.  She  ex- 
pected her  mysterious  words  to  keep  the  Squire 
awake  with  curiosity ;  and  in  such  case,  she  was 
resolved  to  make  another  effort  to  reconcile  her 
husband  to  his  son.  But  the  Squire  gave  her  no 
opportunity;  he  slept  with  an  indifferent  continu- 


The  Lord  of  Exham  61 

ity  that  it  was  useless  to  interrupt.  Perhaps 
there  was  intention  in  this  heavy  sleep,  for  when 
he  came  downstairs  in  the  morning  he  went  at 
once  to  seek  Kate.  He  soon  saw  her  in  the  herb 
garden ;  for  she  had  on  a  white  dimity  gown,  and 
was  standing  upright,  shading  her  eyes  with  her 
hands  to  watch  his  approach.  A  good  breeze 
of  wind  from  the  wolds  fluttered  her  snowy 
skirts,  and  tossed  the  penetrating  scents  of 
thyme  and  marjoram,  mint  and  pennyroyal  up- 
ward, and  she  drew  them  through  her  parted 
lips  and  distended  nostrils. 

"  They  are  so  heavenly  sweet !  "  she  said  with 
a  smile  of  sensuous  pleasure.  "  They  smell  like 
Paradise,  Father." 

"  Ay,  herbs  are  good  and  healthy.  The  smell 
of  them  makes  me  hungry.  I  did  n't  see  thee 
last  night,  Kitty;  and  I  wanted  to  see  thee." 

"  I  was  so  tired,  Father.  It  was  a  day  to  tire 
any  one.  Was  it  not?" 

"  I  should  say  it  was,"  he  replied  with  con- 
scious diplomacy.  "  Now  what  part  of  it  pleased 
thee  best?" 

"  Well,  Mr.  North's  visit  was  of  course  wonder- 
ful ;  and  Lord  Exham's  visit  was  very  pleasant. 
I  enjoyed  both;  but  Mr.  North's  news  was  so 
very  surprising." 

"  To  be  sure.     What  dost  thou  think  of  it?  " 

"  Of  course,  Edgar  is  on  the  other  side,  Father. 
In  some  respects  that  is  a  pity." 

"  It  is  a  shame  !  It  is  a  great  shame  !  " 


62     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  Nay,  nay,  Father !  We  won't  have  '  shame  ' 
mixed  up  with  Edgar.  He  is  in  dead  earnest, 
and  he  has  taken  luck  with  him.  Just  think  of 
our  Edgar  being  one  of  Lord  Durham's  favour- 
ites, of  him  speaking  all  over  England  and  Scot- 
land for  Reform.  Mr.  North  says  there  is  no  one 
like  him  in  the  drawing-rooms  of  the  Reform 
ladies ;  and  no  one  like  him  on  the  Reform  plat- 
forms ;  and  he  was  made  a  member  of  the  new 
Reform  Club  in  London  by  acclamation.  And 
Earl  Grey  will  get  him  a  seat  in  Parliament  next 
election." 

"  Who  is  this  Mr.  North?" 

"  Why,  Father !  You  heard  him  speak,  and 
you  'threw'  him  down  on  the  Green,  you  know." 

"  Oh!  Him!  Dost  thou  believe  all  this  pala- 
ver on  the  word  of  a  travelling  mountebank?" 

"  He  is  not  a  travelling  mountebank.  I  am 
sure  he  is  a  gentleman.  You  should  n't  call  a 
man  names  that  you  have  '  thrown  '  fairly.  You 
know  better  than  that." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  the  lad.  And  he 
does  not  seem  to  have  told  thee  anything  about 
himself.  As  for  thy  mother  —  "  and  then  he 
hesitated,  and  looked  at  Kate  meaningly  and 
inquiringly. 

"  Mother  liked  him.  She  liked  him  very  much 
indeed.  He  brought  both  mother  and  me  a  ring 
from  Edgar,"  and  she  put  out  her  hand  and 
showed  the  Squire  the  little  gold  circle. 

"Trumpery  rubbish  ! "  he  said  scornfully.     "It 


The  Lord  of  Exham  63 

did  n't  cost  half  a  crown.  Give  it  to  me,  and  I 
will  get  thee  a  ring  worth  wearing,  —  sapphires 
or  rubies." 

"  I  would  not  part  with  it  for  loops  and  hoops 
of  sapphires  and  rubies.  Edgar  sent  it  as  a  love- 
token;  he  wants  his  money  for  nobler  things 
than  rubies  —  but,  dear  me  !  you  can't  buy  love 
for  any  money.  Oh,  Father!  I  do  wish  you 
would  be  friends  with  Edgar." 

"  My  little  lass,  I  cannot  be  friends  with  any 
one  if  he  goes  against  the  land,  and  the  King,  and 
the  Constitution.  I  am  loyal  straight  through; 
up  and  down  to-day,  and  to-morrow,  and  every 
day ;  and  I  can't  bear  traitors,  —  men  that  would 
sell  their  country  for  a  bit  of  mob  power  or  mob 
glory.  All  of  Edgar's  friends  and  neighbours  are 
for  the  King  and  the  Laws ;  and  it  shames  me 
and  pains  me  beyond  everything  to  have  a 
rascal  and  a  Radical  in  my  family.  The  Duke 
and  his  son  are  ringer  and  thumb,  buckle  and 
belt;  and  Edgar  and  I  ought  to  be  the  same. 
And  it  stands  to  reason  that  a  father  knows  more 
than  his  own  lad  of  twenty-six  years  old.  What 
dost  thou  think  of  Lord  Exham?" 

The  question  was  asked  at  a  venture  ;  but  Kate 
had  no  suspicion,  and  she  answered  frankly,  "  I 
think  very  well  of  him.  He  talked  mostly  of  poli- 
tics ;  but  every  one  does  that.  It  was  pleasant  to 
see  him  at  our  tea-table  again." 

"  To  be  sure.     So  he  stayed  to  tea?  " 

"  Yes ;  did  not  mother  tell  you?  " 


64     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  Nay,  we  were  talking  of  other  things.  What 
does  he  look  like?  " 

"  I  think  he  is  much  improved." 

"  Well,  he  ought  to  be.  He  must  have  learned 
a  little,  and  he  has  seen  a  lot  since  we  saw  him. 
Come,  let  us  go  and  find  out  what  kind  of  a 
breakfast  mother  can  give  us.  I  am  hungry 
enough  for  two." 

So  Kate  lifted  the  herbs  which  she  had  cut 
into  her  garden  apron,  and  cruddling  close  to  her 
father's  side,  they  went  in  together,  with  the  smell 
of  the  thyme  and  marjoram  all  about  them.  Mrs. 
Atheling  drew  it  in  as  they  entered  the  parlour, 
and  then  turned  to  them  with  a  smile.  The 
Squire  went  to  her  side,  and  promptly  kissed 
her.  It  was  one  of  his  ways  to  ignore  their  little 
tiffs ;  and  this  morning  Mrs.  Atheling  was  also 
agreeable.  She  looked  into  his  eyes,  and  said : 

"  Why,  John  !  are  you  really  awake.  You  lay 
like  the  Seven  Sleepers  when  I  got  up,  and  I 
said  to  myself,  '  John  will  sleep  the  clock  round,' 
so  Kate  and  I  will  have  our  breakfasts." 

"  Nay,  I  have  too  much  to  look  after,  Maude." 
Then  he  turned  the  conversation  to  the  farms, 
and  talked  of  the  draining  to  be  done,  and  the 
meadows  to  be  left  for  grass;  but  he  eschewed 
politics  altogether,  and,  greatly  to  Mrs.  Atheling's 
wonder,  never  alluded  to  the  information  she  had 
given  him  about  their  son  Edgar.  Did  he  really 
think  she  had  been  telling  him  a  made-up  story? 
She  could  not  otherwise  understand  this  self- 


The  Lord  of  Exham  65 

control  in  her  curious  lord.  However,  sometime 
during  the  morning,  Kate  told  her  about  the  con- 
versation in  the  herb  garden ;  then  she  was  con- 
tent. She  knew  just  where  she  had  her  husband; 
and  the  little  laugh  with  which  she  terminated  the 
conversation  was  her  expression  of  conscious 
power  over  him,  and  of  a  retaliation  quite  within 
her  reach. 


66     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 


CHAPTER   FOURTH 

THE   DAWN   OF   LOVE 

THERE  is  always  in  every  life  some  little  part 
which  even  those  dearer  than  life  to  us  cannot 
enter.  Kate  had  become  conscious  of  this  fact. 
She  hoped  her  mother  would  not  talk  of  Lord 
Exham ;  for  she  did  not  as  yet  understand  any- 
thing about  the  feelings  his  return  had  evoked. 
She  would  have  needed  the  uncertain,  enigmat- 
ical language  which  comes  in  dreams  to  explain 
the  "yes  "  and  the  "  no  "  of  the  vague,  trembling 
memories,  prepossessions,  and  hopes  which  flut- 
tered in  her  breast. 

Fortunately  Mrs.  Atheling  had  some  dim  per- 
ception of  this  condition,  and  without  analysing 
her  reasons,  she  was  aware  "  it  was  best  not  to 
meddle  "  between  two  lives  so  surrounded  by  con- 
tradictious circumstances  as  were  those  of  her 
daughter  and  Lord  Exham.  Besides,  as  she 
said  to  her  husband,  "  It  was  no  time  for  love- 
making,  with  the  King  dying,  and  the  country 
on  the  quaking  edge  of  revolution,  and  starvation 
and  misery  all  over  the  land."  And  the  Squire 
answered :  "  Exham  has  not  one  thought  of 
love-making.  He  is  far  too  much  in  with  a  lot 


The  Dawn  of  Love  67 

of  men  who  have  the  country  and  their  own 
estates  to  save.  He  won't  bother  himself  with 
women-folk  now,  whatever  he  may  do  in  idle 
times." 

They  had  both  forgotten,  or  their  own  love 
affair  had  been  of  such  Arcadian  straightness  and 
simplicity  that  they  had  never  learned  Love's 
ability  to  domineer  all  circumstances  that  can 
stir  this  mortal  frame.  Exham  had  indeed  en- 
listed himself  with  passionate  earnestness  in  the 
cause  of  his  class,  which  he  called  the  cause  of 
his  country  —  but  as  the  drop  of 

"  lucent  sirup  tinct  with  cinnamon  " 

is  forever  flavoured  and  perfumed  by  the  spice,  so 
Exham's  life  was  coloured  and  prepossessed  by 
the  thought  of  the  sweet  girl  who  had  been 
blended  with  so  many  of  his  purest  and  happiest 
hours. 

It  was  then  of  Kate  he  thought  as  he  wan- 
dered about  the  stately  rooms  and  beautiful  gar- 
dens of  Exham  Hall.  He  was  not  oblivious  of 
his  engagements  with  the  Duke  and  the  tenants  ; 
but  he  was  considering  how  best  to  keep  these 
engagements,  and  yet  not  miss  a  visit  to  her. 
The  dying  King,  the  riotous  land,  were  acciden- 
tals of  his  life  and  condition ;  his  love  for  Kate 
Atheling  was  at  the  root  of  his  existence ;  it  was 
a  fundamental  of  the  past  and  of  the  future. 
For  five  years  of  constant  change  and  movement, 
it  had  lain  in  abeyance ;  but  old  love  is  a  danger- 


68     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

ous  thing  to  awaken ;  and  Piers  Exham  found  in 
doing  this  thing  that  every  event  of  the  past 
strengthened  the  influence  of  the  present,  and 
fixed  his  heart  more  passionately  on  the  girl  he 
had  first  found  fair ;  the 

—  "  rosebud  set  with  little,  wilful  thorns, 
And  sweet  as  English  airs  could  make  her," 

that  had  sung  and  swung  herself  into  his  affec- 
tion when  she  was  only  twelve  years  old. 

He  was  however  quite  aware  that  any  pro- 
posal to  marry  Kate  Atheling  would  meet  with 
prompt  opposition  from  his  family;  indeed  the 
Duke  had  already  mentioned  a  very  different 
alliance ;  and  in  that  case,  he  did  not  doubt  but 
that  Squire  Atheling  would  be  equally  resolved 
never  to  allow  his  daughter  to  enter  a  home 
where  she  would  be  regarded  by  any  member 
of  it  as  an  intruder.  But  he  put  all  such  con- 
siderations for  the  present  behind  him.  He  said 
to  himself,  "The  first  thing  to  do,  is  to  win 
Kate's  love;  with  that  sweet  consciousness,  I 
shall  be  ready  for  all  opposition."  For  his  heart 
kept  assuring  him  that  every  trouble  and  obstacle 
has  an  hour  in  which  it  may  be  conquered,  —  an 
hour  when  Fate  and  Will  become  One,  and  are 
then  as  irresistible  as  a  great  force  of  Nature. 
He  was  sure  the  hour  for  this  conflict  had  not 
yet  come.  It  was  the  day  for  a  different  fight. 
His  home,  his  estate,  his  title,  and  all  the  priv- 
ileges of  his  nobility  were  in  danger.  When 


The  Dawn  of  Love  69 

they  were  placed  beyond  peril,  then  he  would 
fight  for  the  wife  he  wanted,  and  win  her  against 
all  opposition.  And  who  could  tell  in  what  way 
the  first  conflict  would  bring  forth  circumstances 
to  insure  victory  to  the  last? 

He  was  deeply  in  love ;  he  was  full  of  hope ;  he 
was  at  Atheling  some  part  of  every  day.  If  he 
came  in  the  afternoon,  Kate's  pony  was  saddled, 
and  they  rode  far  and  away,  to  where  the  shad- 
ows and  sunshine  elbowed  one  another  on  the 
moors.  The  golden  gorse  shed  its  perfume  over 
their  heads;  the  linnets  sang  to  them  of  love; 
they  talked,  and  laughed,  and  rode  swiftly  until 
their  pace  brought  them  among  the  mountains 
that  looked  like  a  Titanic  staircase  going  up  to 
the  skies.  There,  they  always  drew  rein,  and 
went  slower,  and  spoke  softer,  and  indeed  often  be- 
came quite  silent,  and  knew  such  silence  to  be  the 
sweetest  eloquence.  Then  after  a  little  interval 
Piers  would  say  one  word,  "  Kate! "  and  Kate 
only  answer  with  a  blush,  and  a  smile,  and  an 
upturned  face.  For  Love  can  put  a  vol- 
ume in  four  letters;  and  souls  say  in  a  glance 
what  a  thousand  words  would  only  blunder  about. 
Then  there  was  the  gallop  home,  and  the  merry 
cup  of  tea,  and  the  saunter  in  the  garden,  and 
the  long  tender  "  good-bye "  at  the  threshold 
where  the  damask  roses  made  the  air  heavy  with 
their  sweetness. 

So  Lord  Exham  did  not  find  his  politics  hard 
to  bear  with  such  delicious  experiences  between 


jo     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

whiles.  And  Kate  ?  What  were  Kate's  experi- 
ences? Oh,  any  woman  who  has  once  loved,  any 
pure  girl  who  longs  to  love,  may  divine  them ! 
For  Love  is  always  the  same.  The  tale  he  told 
Kate  on  the  Atheling  moors  and  under  the 
damask  roses  was  the  very  same  tale  he  told 
high  in  Paradise  by  the  four  rivers  where  the 
first  roses  blew. 

As  the  summer  advanced,  startling  notes  from 
the  outside  world  forced  themselves  into  this 
heavenly  solitude.  On  the  twenty-sixth  of  June, 
King  George  died ;  and  this  death  proved  to  be 
the  first  of  a  series  of  great  events.  Piers  felt 
it  to  be  a  warning  bell.  It  said  to  him,  "The 
charming  overture  of  Love,  with  its  restless  plea- 
sure, its  delicate  hopes  and  fears,  is  nearly  at  an 
end."  He  had  been  with  Kate  for  three  divine 
hours.  They  had  sat  among  the  brackens  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountains,  and  been  twenty  times  on 
the  very  point  of  saying  audibly  the  word 
"  Love !  "  and  twenty  times  had  felt  the  delicious 
uncertainty  of  non-confession  to  be  too  sweet  for 
surrender.  Nay,  they  did  not  reason  about  it ; 
they  simply  obeyed  that  wise,  natural  self- 
restraint  which  knew  its  own  hour,  and  would 
not  hurry  it. 

With  a  sigh  of  rapture,  they  rose  as  the  sun  be- 
gan to  wester,  and  rode  slowly  back  to  Atheling. 
No  one  was  at  the  door  to  receive  them,  and  Kate 
wondered  a  little ;  but  when  they  entered  the  hall, 
the  omission  was  at  once  understood.  There  was 


The  Dawn  of  Love  71 

a  large  open  fireplace  at  the  northern  extremity, 
and  over  it  the  Atheling  arms,  with  their  motto, 
"  Feare  God!  Honour  the  Kinge  !  Laus  Deo!" 
Squire  Atheling  was  draping  this  panel  with 
crape ;  and  Mrs.  Atheling  stood  near  him  with 
some  streamers  of  the  gloomy  fabric  in  her 
hands.  She  pointed  to  the  King's  picture  — 
which  already  wore  the  emblem  of  mourning  — 
and  said,  "  The  King  is  dead." 

"  The  King  lives  !  God  save  the  King !"  replied 
the  Squire,  instantly.  "  God  save  King  William 
the  Fourth !  " 

Then  all  the  clocks  in  the  house  were  stopped, 
and  draped,  and  when  this  ceremony  was  over, 
they  had  tea  together.  And  as  it  is  a  Yorkshire 
custom  to  make  funeral  feasts,  Mrs.  Atheling 
gave  to  the  meal  an  air  of  special  entertainment. 
The  royal  Derby  china  added  its  splendour  to  the 
fine  old  silver  and  delicate  damask.  There  were 
delicious  cheese-cakes,  and  Queen's-cakes,  and 
savoury  potted  meats,  and  fresh  crumpets ;  and 
the  ripe  red  strawberries  filled  the  room  with 
their  ethereal  scent.  No  one  was  at  all  depressed 
by  the  news.  If  King  George  was  dead,  King 
William  was  alive;  and  the  Squire  thought, 
"  Everything  might  be  hoped  from  '  The  Sailor 
King.'  Why !  "  he  said,  "  he  is  that  good- 
natured  he  won't  say  a  bad  word  about  the 
Reformers ;  though,  God  knows,  they  are  a  dis- 
grace to  themselves,  and  to  all  that  back  them 
up." 


72     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"There  will  now  be  a  general  election,"  said 
Exham  positively. 

"  To  be  sure,"  answered  the  Squire.  "  And  it 
is  to  be  hoped  we  may  get  together  a  few  men 
that  will  take  the  Bull  of  Reform  by  the  horns, 
and  put  a  stop  to  that  nonsense  forever  in  Eng- 
land." 

"  Before  they  do  that,"  said  Mrs.  Atheling, 
"  they  will  have  to  consider  the  swarms  of  people 
they  have  brought  up  in  dirt,  and  rags,  and  mis- 
ery. For  if  they  don't,  they  will  bring  ruin  to  the 
nation  that  owns  them." 

"  King  William  is  a  fighter.  He  will  back  the 
Law  with  bayonets,  if  he  thinks  it  right,"  said 
the  Squire. 

Mrs.  Atheling  looked  at  him  indignantly. 
Then,  putting  her  cup  down  with  unmistakable 
emphasis,  she  exclaimed,  "  The  Lord  forgive  thee, 
John  Atheling !  I  '11  say  one  thing,  and  I  '11  say  it 
now,  and  forever,  it  is  n't  law  backed  with  bayo- 
nets that  has  saved  England  so  far ;  it  is  the  bit 
of  religion  in  every  man's  heart,  and  his  trust  that 
somehow  God  will  see  him  righted.  If  it  was  n't 
for  that  it  would  have  been  all  up  with  our  set 
long  ago. 

"  That  is  just  the  way  women  talk  poli- 
tics," said  the  Squire,  with  some  contempt.  "  If 
there  was  nothing  else  in  this  Reform  business  to 
make  a  man  sick,  the  way  they  have  given  in  to 
women,  and  got  them  to  form  clubs  and  make 
speeches,  is  enough  to  set  any  sensible  person 


The  Dawn  of  Love  73 

against  Reform ;  and  if  there  is  no  way  of  talking 
people  into  doing  what  is  right  —  then  they  must 
be  made  to  do  right;  and  that's  all  there  is 
about  it" 

"  Very  well,  John ;  but  there  are  two  sides  to 
play  at  making  other  people  do  right.  I'll  tell 
you  one  thing,  the  Government  will  have  to  take 
a  lot  of  things  into  consideration  before  they  put 
their  trust  in  backing  law  with  bayonets.  It  won't 
work !  Let  them  start  doing  it,  and  we  shall  all 
find  ourselves  in  a  wrong  box." 

"  I  think  there  is  much  good  sense  in  what 
Mrs.  Atheling  believes,"  said  Lord  Exham. 

"  And  as  for  the  Reformers  getting  round  the 
women  of  the  country,"  she  continued,  "  that  is 
as  it  should  be.  Men  have  done  all  the  govern- 
ing for  six  thousand  years ;  and,  in  the  main,  they 
have  made  a  very  bad  job  of  it.  Happen,  a  few 
kind-hearted  women  would  help  things  forwarder. 
There  is  going  to  be  some  alterations,  you  may 
depend  upon  it,  John." 

"Father,"  said  Kate,  "you  had  better  not 
argue  with  mother.  She  knows  a  deal  more  about 
the  country  than  you  think  she  does  ;  and  mother 
is  always  right." 

"  To  be  sure,  Kate.  To  hear  mother  talk,  she 
knows  a  lot ;  but  if  she  would  take  my  advice, 
she  would  forget  a  lot,  and  try  and  learn  some- 
thing better."  Then  touching  his  wife's  hand,  he 
continued,  "  Maude,  I  always  did  believe  thou  wert 
in  favour  of  the  land,  and  the  law,  and  the  King." 


74     I)  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  ever  said  such  a  thing, 
John ;  but  thou  mayst  have  believed  it.  What  I 
thought,  was  another  matter.  And  I  am  begin- 
ning to  think  aloud  now,  that  makes  all  the 
difference." 

Such  divided  opinions  were  in  every  household ; 
and  yet,  upon  the  whole,  the  death  of  the  selfish, 
intolerant  George  was  a  hopeful  event.  When 
people  are  desperate,  any  change  is  a  promise ; 
and  William  had  a  reputation  not  only  for  good 
nature,  but  also  for  that  love  of  fair  play  which 
is  the  first  article  of  an  Englishman's  personal 
creed.  He  came  to  the  throne  on  the  twenty- 
sixth  of  June ;  and  on  the  twenty-ninth  Parlia- 
ment resumed  its  sittings.  Mr.  Brougham  led  the 
opposition,  and  violent  debates  and  unmeasured 
language  distinguished  the  short  session.  The 
Duke  of  Wellington,  representing  the  Government, 
was  prominently  bitter  against  Reform  of  every 
kind ;  and  Mr.  Brougham  boldly  declared  that 
any  Minister  now  hoping  to  rule  either  by  royal 
favour  or  military  power  would  be  overwhelmed. 
In  less  than  a  month  the  King  prorogued  Parlia- 
ment in  person,  and  in  so  doing,  congratulated 
his  country  on  the  tranquillity  of  Europe.  Forty- 
eight  hours  afterwards,  France  was  insurgent,  and 
Paris  in  arms.  Three  days  of  most  determined 
fighting  followed ;  and  then  Charles  the  Tenth 
was  driven  from  his  throne,  and  the  white  flag  of 
the  Bourbon  tyranny  gave  place  to  the  Tri-colour 
of  Liberty. 


The  Dawn  of  Love  75 

Now  if  there  had  been  a  direct  electric  or 
magnetic  current  between  England  and  the  Con- 
tinent, the  effect  could  not  have  been  more  sym- 
pathetically startling;  and  these  three  memorable 
"  Days  of  July  "  in  Paris  impelled  forward,  with  an 
irresistible  impetus,  the  cause  of  freedom  in 
England.  The  nobility  and  the  landed  gentry 
were  gravely  aware  of  this  effect ;  and  the  great 
middle  class,  and  the  working  men  in  every 
county,  were  stirred  to  more  hopeful  and  united 
action.  Far  and  wide  the  people  began  anew  to 
express,  in  various  ways,  their  determination  to 
have  the  Tory  Ministers  dismissed,  and  a  Liberal 
Government  in  favour  of  Reform  inaugurated. 

For  the  first  time  the  Squire  was  anxious.  For 
the  first  time  he  saw  and  felt  positive  symptoms 
of  insubordination  among  his  own  people.  Pick- 
ering's barns  were  burnt  one  night;  and  a  few 
nights  afterwards,  Rudby's  hay-ricks.  Squire 
Atheling  was  a  man  of  prompt  action ;  one  well 
disposed  to  do  in  his  own  manor  what  he 
expected  the  Government  to  do  in  the  country,  — 
take  the  Reform  bull  by  the  horns.  He  sent  for 
all  his  labourers  to  meet  him  in  the  farm  court  at 
Atheling;  and  when  they  were  gathered  there, 
he  stood  up  on  the  stone  wall  which  enclosed 
one  side  of  it  and  said  in  his  strong,  resonant 
voice, — 

"  Now,  men  of  Atheling  manor  and  village,  you 
have  been  sulky  and  ugly  for  two  or  three 
weeks.  You  are  n't  sulky  and  ugly  without 


76     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

knowing  why  you  are  so.  If  you  are  Yorkshire- 
men  worth  your  bread  and  bacon,  you  will  out 
with  your  grievance  —  whatever  it  is.  Tom  Gis- 
burn,  what  is  it?" 

"We  can't  starve  any  longer,  Squire.  We 
want  two  shillings  a  week  more  wages.  Me  and 
mine  would  hev  been  in  t'  churchyard  if  thy 
Missis  hed  been  as  hard-hearted  as  thysen." 

"  I  will  give  you  all  one  shilling  a  week  more." 

"  Nay,  but  a  shilling  won't  do.  Thy  Missis  is 
good,  and  Miss  Kate  is  good ;  but  we  want  our 
rights ;  and  we  hev  made  up  our  minds  that  two 
shillings  a  week  more  wage  will  nobbut  barely 
cover  them.  We  are  varry  poor,  Squire  !  Varry 
poor  indeed !  " 

The  man  spoke  sadly  and  respectfully ;  and  the 
Squire  looked  at  him,  and  at  the  stolid,  anxious 
faces  around  with  an  angry  pity.  "  I  '11  tell  you 
what,  men,"  he  continued ;  "  everything  in  Eng- 
land is  going  to  the  devil.  Englishmen  are  get- 
ting as  ill  to  do  with  as  a  lot  of  grumbling, 
contrary,  bombastic  Frenchers.  If  you  '11  promise 
me  to  stand  by  the  King,  and  the  land,  and  the 
laws,  and  give  these  trouble-making  Reformers  a 
dip  in  the  horse-pond  if  any  of  them  come  to 
Atheling  again  —  why,  then,  I  will  give  you  all  — 
every  one  of  you  —  two  shillings  a  week  more 
wage." 

"  Nay,  Squire,  we  '11  not  sell  oursens  for  two 
shillings  a  week ;  not  one  of  us  —  eh,  men  ?  "  and 
Gisburn  looked  at  his  fellows  interrogatively. 


The  Dawn  of  Love  77 

"  Sell  oursens !  "  replied  the  Squire's  black- 
smith, a  big,  hungry-looking  fellow  in  a  leather 
apron ;  "  no  !  no,  Squire !  Thou  oughtest  to  know 
us  better.  Sell  oursens !  Not  for  all  the  gold 
guineas  in  Yorkshire !  We  '11  sell  thee  our 
labour  for  two  shilling  a  week  more  wage,  and 
thankful;  but  our  will,  and  our  good-will,  thou 
can't  buy  for  any  money." 

There  was  a  subdued  cheer  at  these  words  from 
the  men,  and  the  Squire's  face  suddenly  lightened. 
His  best  self  put  his  lower  self  behind  him. 
"  Sawley,"  he  answered,  "  thou  art  well  nick- 
named '  Straight-up  !  '  and  I  don't  know  but  what 
I  'm  very  proud  of  such  an  independent,  honour- 
able lot  of  men.  Such  as  you  won't  let  the  land 
suffer.  Remember,  you  were  all  born  on  it,  and 
you  '11  like  enough  be  buried  in  it.  Stand  by 
the  land  then ;  and  if  two  shillings  a  week  more 
wage  will  make  you  happy,  you  shall  have  it,  — 
if  I  sell  the  gold  buttons  off  my  coat  to  pay  it. 
Are  we  friends  now?  " 

A  hearty  shout  answered  the  question,  and  the 
Squire  continued,  "  Then  go  into  the  barn,  and 
eat  and  drink  your  fill.  You  '11  find  a  barrel  of  old 
ale,  and"  some  roast  beef,  and  wheat  bread  there." 

In  this  way  he  turned  the  popular  discontent 
from  Atheling,  and  doubtless  saved  his  barns 
and  hay-ricks ;  but  he  went  into  his  house  angry 
at  the  men,  and  angry  at  his  wife  and  daughter. 
They  had  evidently  been  aiding  and  succouring 
these  discontents  and  their  families ;  and  —  as 


78     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

he  took  care  to  point  out  to  Kate  —  evil  and 
not  good  had  been  the  result.  "  I  have  to  give 
now  as  a  right,"  he  said,  "  what  thee  and  thy 
mother  have  been  giving  as  a  kindness  !  "  And 
his  temper  was  not  improved  by  hearing  from 
the  barn  the  noisy  "  huzzas  "  with  which  the  name 
of  "  the  young  Squire  "  was  received,  and  his 
health  drank. 

"  Wife,  and  son,  and  daughter !  all  of  them 
against  me !  I  wonder  what  I  have  done  to  be 
served  in  such  away?"  he  exclaimed  sorrowfully. 
And  then  Kate  forgot  everything  about  politics. 
She  said  all  kinds  of  consoling  words  without 
any  regard  for  the  Reform  Bill,  and,  with  the 
sweetest  kisses,  promised  her  father  whatever  she 
thought  would  make  him  happy.  It  is  an  un- 
reasonable, delightful  way  that  belongs  to  loving 
women ;  and  God  help  both  men  and  women  when 
they  are  too  wise  for  such  sweet  deceptions ! 

Yet  the  Squire  carried  a  hot,  restless  heart  to 
the  Duke's  meeting  that  night;  and  he  was  not 
pleased  to  find  that  the  tactics  he  had  used  with 
his  labourers  met  with  general  and  great  dis- 
approval. Those  men  who  had  already  suffered 
loss,  and  those  who  knew  that  they  had  gone 
beyond  a  conciliating  policy,  said  some  ugly 
words  about  "  knuckling  down,"  and  it  required 
all  the  Duke's  wisdom  and  influence  to  represent 
it  as  "  a  wise  temporary  concession,  to  be  re- 
called as  soon  as  the  election  was  over,  and  the 
Tory  Government  safely  reinstalled." 


The  Dawn  of  Love  79 

Upon  the  whole,  then,  Squire  Atheling  had  not 
much  satisfaction  in  his  position ;  and  every  day 
brought  some  new  tale  of  thrilling  interest.  All 
England  was  living  a  romance ;  and  people  got 
so  used  to  continual  excitement  that  they  set  the 
homeliest  experiences  of  life  to  great  historical 
events.  During  the  six  weeks  following  the  death 
of  King  George  the  Fourth  occurred  the  new 
King's  coronation,  the  dissolution  of  Parliament, 
the  "  Three  Days  of  July,"  and  the  landing  of  the 
exiled  French  King  in  England;  all  of  these 
things  being  accompanied  by  agrarian  outrages 
in  the  farming  districts,  the  destruction  of  machin- 
ery in  the  manufacturing  towns,  and  constant 
political  tumults  wherever  men  congregated. 

The  next  six  weeks  were  even  more  restless 
and  excited.  The  French  King  was  a  constant 
subject  of  interest  to  the  Reformers ;  for  was  he 
not  a  stupendous  example  of  the  triumph  of 
Liberal  principles?  He  was  reported  first  at 
Lulworth  Castle  in  Devonshire.  Then  he  went 
to  Holyrood  Palace  in  Edinburgh.  The  Scotch 
Reformers  resented  his  presence,  and  perpetually 
•insulted  him,  until  Sir  Walter  Scott  made  a 
manly  appeal  for  the  fallen  tyrant.  And  while 
the  Bourbon  sat  in  Holyrood,  a  sign  and  a 
text  for  all  lovers  of  Freedom,  England  was  in 
the  direst  storm  and  stress  of  a  general  election. 
The  men  of  the  Fen  Country  were  rising.  The 
Universities  were  arming  their  students.  There 
was  rioting  in  this  city  and  that  city.  The  Tories 


8o     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

were  gaining.  The  Reformers  were  gaining.  Both 
sides  were  calling  passionately  on  the  women  of 
the  country  to  come  to  their  help,  without  it 
seeming  to  occur  to  either  that  if  women  had 
political  influence,  they  had  also  political  rights. 

But  the  end  was  just  what  all  these  events 
predicated.  When  the  election  was  over,  the 
Tory  Government  had  lost  fifty  votes  in  the 
House  of  Commons ;  but  Piers  Exham  was  Mem- 
ber of  Parliament  for  the  borough  of  Gaythorne, 
and  Squire  Atheling  was  the  Representative  of 
the  Twenty-two  Tory  citizens  of  the  village  of 
Asketh. 


Annabel  Vyner  81 


CHAPTER   FIFTH 

ANNABEL  VYNER 

THE  first  chapter  of  Kate's  and  Piers'  love- 
story  was  told  to  these  stirring  events.  They 
were  like  a  trumpet  obligate  in  the  distance  thrill- 
ing their  hearts  with  a  keener  zest  and  a  wider 
sympathy.  True,  the  sympathy  was  not  always 
in  unison,  for  Piers  was  an  inflexible  partisan  of 
his  own  order,  yet  in  some  directions  Kate's 
feelings  were  in  perfect  accord.  For  instance,  at 
Exham  Hall  and  at  Atheling  Manor-house,  there 
was  the  same  terror  of  the  mob's  firebrand,  and 
the  same  constant  watch  for  its  prevention. 
These  buildings  were  not  only  the  cherished 
homes  of  families ;  they  were  houses  of  national 
pride  and  record.  Yet  many  such  had  perished 
in  the  unreasoning  anger  of  multitudes  mad  with 
suffering  and  a  sense  of  wrong;  and  the  Squire 
and  the  Lord  alike  kept  an  unceasing  watch 
over  their  habitations.  On  this  subject,  all  were 
unanimous ;  and  the  fears,  and  frights,  and  sus- 
picions relating  to  it  drew  the  families  into  much 
closer  sympathy. 

After  the  election  was  over,  there  was  a  rapid 
subsidence  of  public  feeling;  the  people  had 

6 


82     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

taken  the  first  step  triumphantly ;  and  they  were 
willing  to  wait  for  its  results.  Then  the  Rich- 
moor  family  began  to  consider  an  immediate 
removal  to  London,  and,  as  a  preparatory  cour- 
tesy, gave  a  large  dinner  party  at  the  Castle. 
As  Kate  was  not  yet  in  society,  she  had  no  invi- 
tation; but  the  Squire  and  Mrs.  Atheling  were 
specially  honoured  guests. 

"  The  Squire  has  been  of  immense  service  to 
me,"  said  Richmoor  to  his  Duchess.  "  A  man  so 
sincere  and  candid  I  have  seldom  met  He  has 
spoken  well  for  us,  simply  and  to  the  point, 
and  I  wish  you  to  pay  marked  attention  to  Mrs. 
Atheling." 

"  Of  course,  if  you  desire  it,  I  will  do  so.  Who 
was  Mrs.  Atheling?  Is  she  likely  to  be  detri- 
mental in  town  or  troublesome?" 

"  She  is  the  daughter  of  the  late  Thomas 
Hardwicke,  of  Hardwicke  —  as  you  know,  a  very 
ancient  county  family.  She  had  a  good  fortune ; 
in  fact,  she  brought  the  Squire  the  Manor  of 
Behvard." 

"In  appearance,  is  she  presentable?  " 

"  She  was  very  handsome  some  years  ago.  I 
have  not  seen  her  for  a  long  time." 

"  I  dare  say  she  has  grown  stout  and  red ; 
and  she  will  probably  wear  blue  satin  in  honour 
of  her  husband's  Tory  principles.  These  county 
dames  always  think  it  necessary  to  wear  their 
party  colours.  I  counted  eleven  blue  satin  dresses 
at  our  last  election  dinner." 


Annabel  Vyner  83 

"  Even  if  she  does  wear  blue  satin,  I  should 
like  you  to  be  exceedingly  civil  to  her." 

"  I  suppose  you  know  that  Piers  has  been  at 
Atheling  a  great  deal.  I  heard  in  some  way  that 
—  in  fact,  Duke,  that  Piers  and  Miss  Atheling 
were  generally  considered  lovers." 

The  Duke  laughed.  "  I  think  I  understand 
Piers,"  he  said.  "  These  incendiary  terrors  have 
drawn  people  together ;  and  there  has  also  been 
the  election  business  as  well.  Many  perfectly 
necessary  natural  causes  have  taken  Piers  to 
Atheling." 

"  Miss  Atheling,  for  instance  !  " 

"  Oh,  perhaps  so  !  Why  not?  When  I  was  a 
young  man,  I  thought  it  both  necessary  and 
natural  to  have  a  pretty  girl  to  ride  and  walk 
with.  But  riding  and  walking  with  a  lovely  girl 
is  one  thing;  marrying  her  is  another.  Piers 
knows  that  he  is  expected  to  marry  Annabel 
Vyner;  he  knows  that  for  many  reasons  it  will  be 
well  for  him  to  do  so.  And  above  all  other  con- 
siderations, Piers  puts  his  family  and  his  caste." 

The  Duke's  absolute  confidence  in  his  son 
satisfied  the  Duchess.  She  looked  upon  her 
husband  as  a  man  of  wonderful  penetration  and 
invincible  wisdom.  If  he  was  not  uneasy  about 
Piers  and  Miss  Atheling,  there  was  no  necessity 
for  her  to  carry  an  anxious  thought  on  the 
subject;  and  she  was  glad  to  be  fully  released 
from  it.  Yet  she  had  more  than  a  passing  curi- 
osity about  Kate's  mother.  The  Squire  she  had 


84     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

frequently  seen,  both  in  the  pink  of  the  hunting- 
field  and  in  the  quieter  dress  of  the  dinner-table. 
But  it  so  happened  that  she  had  never  met  Mrs. 
Atheling;  and,  on  entering  the  great  drawing- 
room,  her  eyes  sought  the  only  lady  present 
who  was  a  stranger  to  her. 

Mrs.  Atheling  was  standing  at  the  Duke's  side ; 
and  she  went  directly  to  her,  taking  note,  as  she 
did  so,  of  the  beauty,  style,  and  physical  grace 
that  distinguished  the  lady.  She  saw  that  she 
wore  a  gown  —  not  of  blue  —  but  of  heavy  black 
satin,  that  it  fell  away  from  her  fine  throat  and 
shoulders,  and  showed  her  arms  in  all  their 
exquisite  form  and  colour.  She  saw  also  that  her 
dark  hair  was  dressed  well  on  the  top  of  the  head 
in  bouillonts  curls,  and  that  the  only  ornament 
she  wore  was  among  them,  —  a  comb  of  wrought 
gold  set  with  diamonds,  —  and  that  otherwise 
neither  brooch  nor  bracelet,  pendant  nor  ruffle 
of  lace  broke  the  noble  lines  of  her  figure  or 
the  rich  folds  of  her  gown.  And  the  Duchess 
was  both  astonished  and  pleased  with  a  toilet  so 
distinguished  ;  she  assured  herself  in  this  passing 
investigation  that  Mrs.  Atheling  was  quite  "  pre- 
sentable," and  also  probably  desirable. 

The  favourable  impression  was  strengthened  in 
that  hour  after  dinner  when  ladies  left  to  their 
own  devices  either  become  disagreeable  or  con- 
fidential. The  Duchess  and  Mrs.  Atheling  fell 
into  the  latter  mood,  and  their  early  removal  to 
London  was  the  first  topic  of  conversation. 


Annabel  Vyner  85 

"  We  have  no  house  in  town,"  said  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing ;  "  but  the  Squire  has  rented  one  that  belonged 
to  the  late  General  Vyner.  It  is  in  very  good 
condition,  I  hear,  though  we  may  have  to  stay  a 
few  days  at  '  The  Clarendon'  " 

"  How  strange  !  I  mean  that  it  is  strange  you 
should  have  rented  the  General's  house.  Did 
you  make  the  arrangement  with  the  Duke?" 

"  No,  indeed ;  with  a  Mr.  Pownell  who  is  a 
large  house  agent." 

"  Mr.  Pownell  attends  to  the  Duke's  London 
property.  I  am  sure  he  will  be  delighted  to 
know  his  old  friend's  home  is  in  such  good 
hands.  I  wonder  if  you  have  heard  that  the 
Duke  is  General  Vyner's  executor  and  the  guar- 
dian of  his  daughter?" 

Mrs.  Atheling  made  a  motion  indicative  of  her 
ignorance  and  her  astonishment,  and  the  Duchess 
continued,  "  It  is  quite  a  charge  everyway ;  but 
there  was  a  life-long  friendship  between  the  two 
men,  and  Annabel  will  come  to  us  almost  like  a 
daughter." 

"  A  great  charge  though,"  answered  Mrs. 
Atheling,  "  especially  if  she  is  yet  to  educate." 

"  Her  education  is  finished.  She  is  twenty-two 
years  of  age.  It  is  her  wealth  which  will  make 
my  position  an  anxious  one.  It  is  not  an  easy 
thing  to  chaperon  a  great  heiress." 

"  And  if  she  is  beautiful,  that  will  add  to  the 
difficulty,"  said  Mrs.  Atheling. 

"  I  have  never  seen  Miss  Vyner.     I  cannot  tell 


86     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

you  whether  she  is  beautiful  or  not  so.  She 
joins  us  in  London,  and  my  first  duty  will  be  to 
present  her  at  the  next  drawing-room." 

A  little  sensitive  pause  followed  this  statement, 
—  a  pause  so  sensitive  that  the  Duchess  divined 
the  desire  in  Mrs.  Atheling's  heart;  and  Mrs. 
Atheling  felt  the  hesitancy  and  wavering  inclina- 
tion weighing  her  wish  in  the  thoughts  of  the 
Duchess.  A  sudden,  straight  glance  from  Mrs. 
Atheling's  eyes  decided  the  question. 

"  I  should  like  to  present  Miss  Atheling  at  the 
same  time,  if  you  have  no  objection,"  she  added. 
And  Mrs.  Atheling's  pleasure  was  so  great,  and 
her  thanks  so  candid  and  positive,  that  the  Duch- 
ess accepted  the  situation  she  had  placed  herself 
in  with  apparent  satisfaction.  Yet  she  wondered 
why  she  had  made  the  offer.  She  felt  as  if  the 
favour  had  been  obtained  against  her  will.  She 
was  half  afraid  in  the  very  moment  of  the  pro- 
posal that  she  was  doing  an  imprudent  thing. 
But  when  she  had  done  it,  she  never  thought  of 
withdrawing  from  a  position  she  must  have  taken 
voluntarily.  On  the  contrary,  she  affected  a 
great  interest  in  the  event,  and  talked  of  "  the 
ceremonies  Miss  Atheling  must  make  herself 
familiar  with,"  of  the  probable  date  at  which 
the  function  would  take  place,  and  of  the  dress 
and  ornaments  fitting  for  the  occasion.  "And 
the  young  people  must  meet  each  other  as  soon 
as  possible,"  she  continued. 

Then  the  gentlemen  entered  the  drawing-room, 


Annabel  Vyner  87 

and  the  groups  scattered.  The  Duchess  left  Mrs. 
Atheling;  and  Lord  Exham  took  the  chair  she 
vacated.  And  the  happy  mother  was  far  too 
simple,  and  too  single-hearted  to  keep  her  pleas- 
ure to  herself.  She  told  Exham  of  the  honour 
intended  Kate,  and  was  a  little  dashed  by  the 
manner  in  which  he  heard  the  news.  He  was 
ashamed  of  it  himself;  but  he  could  not  at  once 
conquer  the  feeling  of  jealousy  which  assailed 
him.  It  was  the  first  time  that  the  image  of 
Kate  had  been  presented  to  him  in  company  with 
any  but  Piers  Exham ;  and  it  gave  him  real  suf- 
fering to  associate  it  with  the  attention  and 
admiration  her  beauty  was  sure  to  challenge 
from  all  and  sundry  who  would  be  present  at 
a  court  drawing-room.  However,  he  made  the 
necessary  assurances  of  pleasure,  and  Mrs. 
Atheling  was  not  a  woman  who  went  motive 
hunting.  She  took  a  friend's  words  at  their  face 
value. 

Of  course  Kate  was  delighted,  and  the  Squire 
perhaps  more  so  ;  for  though  he  pretended  to  think 
it  "all  a  bit  of  nonsense,"  he  opened  his  purse- 
strings  wide,  and  told  his  wife  and  daughter  to 
"  help  themselves."  So  the  last  few  days  at 
Atheling  were  set  to  the  dreams,  and  hopes, 
and  expectations  of  that  gay  social  life  which 
always  has  a  charm  for  youth.  The  clash  of 
party  warfare,  the  wailing  of  want,  the  insistent 
claims  of  justice,  —  all  these  voices  were  tempo- 
rarily hushed.  They  had  become  monotonous 


88     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

and,  to  Kate,  suddenly  uninteresting.  What  was 
the  passing  of  a  Reform  Bill  to  a  girl  of  nineteen, 
when  there  was  such  a  thing  as  a  court  drawing- 
room  in  expectation? 

It  made  her  restless  and  anxious  during  the 
two  weeks  occupied  by  their  removal  from 
Atheling,  and  their  settlement  in  London.  And 
though  the  great  city  was  full  of  wonder  and 
interest,  and  the  new  splendours  of  the  Vyner 
mansion  very  satisfactory,  yet  she  could  not 
enjoy  these  things  until  there  was  some  token 
that  the  Duchess  remembered,  and  intended  to 
fulfil  her  promise.  If  only  Piers  had  been  in 
London  !  But  Piers  had  been  detained  in  York- 
shire, and  was  not  expected  until  the  formal 
opening  of  Parliament,  so  that  Kate  could  only 
speculate,  and  wish,  and  fear,  and  in  so  doing 
discount  her  present,  and  forestall  her  future 
pleasures.  So  prodigal  is  youth  of  happiness 
and  feeling ! 

However,  at  the  end  of  October,  Mrs.  Atheling 
received  a  letter  from  the  Duchess.  It  reminded 
her  of  the  drawing-room,  and  asked  Miss  Athel- 
ing's  presence  that  evening  in  order  to  meet  Miss 
Vyner,  and  consult  with  her  about  the  dresses  to 
be  worn.  The  visit  was  to  be  perfectly  informal ; 
but  even  an  informal  visit  to  Richmoor  House 
was  a  great  event  to  Kate.  And  how  pretty  she 
was  when  she  came  into  her  father's  and  mother's 
presence,  dressed  for  the  occasion  !  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing looked  at  her  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  and 


Annabel  Vyner  89 

the  Squire  instantly  rose,  and  took  her  on  his 
arm  to  the  waiting  carriage.  This  carriage  was 
the  Squire's  pet  extravagance,  and  there  was 
not  a  more  splendidly-appointed  equipage  in 
London.  Its  horses  were  of  the  finest  that  York- 
shire breeds ;  the  servant's  liveries  irreproachable 
in  taste ;  and  when  he  saw  his  daughter's  white 
figure  against  its  rich,  blue  linings  he  was  satisfied 
with  his  outlay. 

Richmoor  House  was  soon  reached,  and  Kate 
looked  with  wonder  at  its  noble  frontage,  and  its 
stone  colonnades.  How  much  greater  was  her 
wonder  when  she  stepped  into  its  interior  vesti- 
bule !  This  vestibule  was  eighty-two  feet  long, 
by  more  than  twelve  feet  wide;  it  was  orna- 
mented with  Doric  columns  and  fine  carvings, 
and  at  each  end  there  was  a  colossal  staircase. 
Up  one  of  these  stately  ways  Kate  was  con- 
ducted into  a  gallery  full  of  fine  paintings,  and 
forming  the  corridor  on  which  the  one  hundred 
and  fifty  rooms  appropriated  to  the  use  of  the 
family  opened.  Here,  one  servant  after  another 
escorted  her,  until  she  was  left  with  a  woman-in- 
waiting,  who  led  her  into  a  tiring-room  and  then 
assisted  Kate's  own  maid  to  remove  her  mis- 
tress's wrap  and  hood,  and  tie  in  pretty  bows 
her  white  satin  sandals.  The  simple  girl  felt  as 
if  she  was  in  a  dream,  and  she  accepted  all  this 
attention  with  the  calm  composure  of  a  dream- 
maiden.  It  was  just  like  one  of  the  old  fairy 
tales  she  used  to  live  in.  She  was  an  enchanted 


90     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

princess  in  an  enchanted  castle,  and  all  she  had  to 
do,  was  to  be  passive  in  the  hands  of  her  destiny. 
Transient  and  illogical  as  this  feeling  was,  it  gave 
to  her  manner  a  singular  air  of  serene  confidence, 
and  the  Duchess  noticed  and  approved  it.  She 
was  relieved  at  once  from  any  apprehension  of 
anything  malapropos  in  The  Presence. 

She  went  forward  to  meet  Kate,  and  was  both 
astonished  and  pleased  at  her  protegee's  appear- 
ance. The  white  llama  in  which  she  was 
gowned,  its  simple  trimming  of  white  satin,  and 
its  pretty  accessories  of  white  slippers  and  gloves 
satisfied  both  the  pride  and  the  taste  of  the 
Duchess.  Any  less  attention  to  costume  she 
would  have  felt  as  a  want  of  respect  towards  her- 
self; any  more  extravagant  display  would  have 
indicated  vulgar  display  and  a  due  want  of  subor- 
dination to  her  own  rank  and  age.  But  Kate 
offended  no  feeling,  and  she  took  her  by  the  hand 
and  led  her  down  the  long  room.  At  its  extremity 
there  was  a  group  of  girls :  one  was  standing ; 
the  others  were  sitting  on  a  sofa  before  her.  The 
eyes  of  all  were  fastened  on  Kate  as  she  ap- 
proached ;  but  she  was  not  disturbed  by  this 
scrutiny.  She  had  all  the  strength  and  assurance 
which  comes  from  a  proper  and  moderate  toilet ; 
and  she  was  even  competent  to  do  her  own  share 
of  observation. 

The  three  girls  sitting  on  the  sofa  offered  no 
points  of  remark  or  speculation.  They  were  the 
three  Ladies  Anne,  Mary,  and  Charlotte  Warwick ; 


Annabel  Vyner  91 

and  all  alike  had  the  beauty  of  youth,  the  grace 
of  noble  nurture,  and  the  pretty  garments  indica- 
tive of  their  station.  But  the  young  lady  stand- 
ing was  of  a  different  character.  Her  personality 
pervaded  the  space  in  which  she  stood;  she 
domineered  with  a  look;  and  Kate  knew  instinc- 
tively that  this  girl  was  Annabel  Vyner.  The 
knowledge  came  with  a  little  shock,  a  sudden 
failing  of  heart,  a  presentiment.  She  had  given 
her  hand  with  a  pleasant  impulse,  and  without 
consideration,  to  the  Ladies  Warwick;  she  did 
not  offer  it  to  Annabel;  and  yet  she  was  not 
aware  of  the  omission.  All  of  these  girls  were 
intending  to  make  a  Court  cttbut,  and  at  that 
moment  were  discussing  its  necessities.  Kate 
at  first  took  little  part  in  this  discussion.  Mrs. 
Atheling  had  already  decided  on  the  costume 
she  thought  most  suitable  for  her  daughter ;  and 
Kate  was  quite  satisfied  with  her  choice.  Miss 
Vyner  was  however  dictating  to  Lady  Charlotte 
Warwick  what  she  ought  to  wear;  and  Kate 
watched  with  a  curious  wonder  this  girlish  oracle, 
laying  down  laws  for  others  her  equal  in  age, 
and  far  more  than  her  equal  in  rank  and  social 
position. 

Miss  Vyner  was  not  beautiful;  but  she  pos- 
sessed an  irresistible  fascination.  She  was  large, 
and  rather  heavy.  She  reminded  one  of  a  rough- 
hewn  granite  statue  of  old  Egypt ;  and  she  was 
just  as  magnificently  imposing.  Her  hair  was 
long,  and  strong,  and  wavy ;  her  eyes  very  black 


92     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

and  intrepid,  but  capable  of  liquid,  languishing 
expressions,  full  of  enchantment.  Her  nose, 
though  thick  and  square  at  the  end,  had  wide, 
sensitive  nostrils ;  and  her  fine,  red  lips  showed 
white  and  dazzling  teeth.  But  it  was  the  sense 
of  power  and  plenitude  of  life  which  she  pos- 
sessed which  gave  her  that  natural  authority, 
whose  influence  all  felt,  and  few  analysed  or 
disputed. 

She  was  quite  aware  that  standing  was  a  becom- 
ing posture,  and  that  it  gave  to  her  a  certain 
power  over  the  girlish  figures  who  seemed  to 
sit  at  her  feet.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before 
Kate  felt  an  instinctive  rebellion  against  the 
position  assigned  her ;  she  knew  that  it  put  her 
in  an  unfair  subordination;  and  she  rose  from 
her  chair,  and  stood  leaning  against  the  Broad- 
wood  piano  at  her  side.  The  action  arrested 
Miss  Vyner's  attention.  She  stopped  speaking 
in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  and,  looking  stead- 
ily at  Kate,  said  suavely,  as  she  pushed  the  chair 
slightly,  — 

"  Do  sit  down,  Miss  Atheling." 

"  No,  thank  you,"  answered  Kate.  "  I  have 
been  sitting  all  day.  I  am  tired  of  sitting." 

Then  Annabel  gave  her  a  still  more  searching 
look,  and  something  came  into  Kate's  eyes  which 
she  understood ;  for  she  smiled  as  she  went  on 
with  her  little  dictation ;  but  the  thought  in  her 
heart  was,  "  So  you  have  thrown  down  the  glove, 
Miss  Atheling !  " 


Annabel  Vyner  93 

Nothing  however  of  this  incipient  defiance  was 
noticeable ;  and  Annabel's  attention  was  almost 
immediately  afterwards  diverted  from  her  com- 
panions. For  in  the  middle  of  one  of  her  fine 
descriptions  of  an  Indian  court,  she  observed  a 
sudden  loss  of  interest,  and  a  simultaneous  direc- 
tion of  every  glance  towards  the  upper  end  of 
the  room.  The  Duchess  was  approaching,  and 
with  her,  a  young  man  in  dinner  costume.  A 
crimson  flush  rushed  over  Kate's  neck  and  face ; 
she  dropped  her  eyes,  but  could  not  restrain  the 
faint  smile  that  came  and  went  like  a  flash  of 
light. 

"  It  is  Lord  Exham,"  she  said  in  a  low  voice 
to  Anne  Warwick;  and  the  Ladies  nodded 
slightly,  and  continued  a  desultory  conversation, 
they  hardly  knew  what  about.  But  Annabel 
stood  erect  and  silent.  She  glanced  once  at 
Kate,  and  then  turned  the  full  blaze  of  her  daz- 
zling eyes  upon  the  advancing  nobleman.  For 
once,  their  magnetic  rays  were  ineffectual.  The 
Duchess,  on  her  son's  arrival,  had  notified  him  of 
the  ladies  present;  and  Kate  Atheling  was  the 
lodestar  which  drew  his  first  attention.  He  had 
in  the  button-hole  of  his  coat  a  few  Michaelmas 
daisies,  and  after  speaking  to  the  other  ladies, 
he  put  them  into  Kate's  hand,  saying,  "  I  gath- 
ered them  in  Atheling  garden.  Do  you  remem- 
ber the  bush  by  the  swing  in  the  laurel  walk?  I 
thought  you  would  like  to  have  them."  And 
Kate  said  "  thank  you  "  in  the  way  that  Piers 


94     I>  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

perfectly  understood  and  appreciated,  though  it 
seemed  to  be  of  the  most  formal  kind. 

The  dinner  was  a  family  dinner,  but  far  from 
being  tiresome  or  dull.  The  Duke  and  Lord 
Exham  had  both  adventures  to  tell.  The  latter 
in  passing  through  a  little  market-town  had  seen 
the  hungry  people  take  the  wheat  from  the 
grain-market  by  force,  and  said  he  had  been  de- 
layed a  little  by  the  circumstance. 

"  But  why  ?  "  asked  the  Duchess. 

"  There  were  some  arrests  made ;  and  after  all, 
one  cannot  see  hungry  men  and  women  punished 
for  taking  food."  There  was  silence  after  this 
remark,  and  Kate  glanced  at  Exham,  whose 
veiled  eyes,  cast  upon  the  glass  of  wine  he  held 
in  his  hand,  betrayed  nothing.  But  when  he 
lifted  them,  they  caught  something  from  Kate's 
eyes,  and  an  almost  imperceptible  smile  passed 
from  face  to  face.  No  one  asked  Exham  for  fur- 
ther particulars;  and  the  Duke  hurriedly  changed 
the  subject.  "  Where  do  you  think  I  took  lunch 
to-day?  "  he  asked. 

"  At  Stephen's,"  answered  the  Duchess. 

"Not  likely,"  he  replied.  "I  am  neither  a 
fashionable  officer,  nor  a  dandy  about  town.  If 
I  had  asked  for  lunch  there,  the  waiters  would 
have  stared  solemnly,  and  told  me  there  was  no 
table  vacant." 

"  As  you  want  horses,  perhaps  you  went  to 
Limmers,"  said  Exham. 

"  No.     I  met  a  party  of  gentlemen  and  ladies 


Annabel  Vyner  95 

going  to  Whitbread's  Brewery,  and  I  went  with 
them.  We  had  a  steak  done  on  a  hot  malt 
shovel,  and  plenty  of  stout  to  wash  it  down. 
There  were  quite  a  number  of  visitors  there ;  it 
has  become  one  of  the  sights  of  London.  Then 
I  rode  as  far  as  the  Philosophical  Society,  and 
heard  a  lecture  on  a  new  chemical  force." 

"  The  Archbishop  does  not  approve  of  your  de- 
votion to  Science,"  said  the  Duchess,  reprovingly. 

"  I  know  it,"  he  answered.  "  All  our  clergy 
regard  Science  as  a  new  kind  of  sin.  I  saw  the 
Archbishop  later,  at  a  very  interesting  ceremony, 
—  the  deposition  in  Whitehall  Chapel  of  twelve 
Standards  taken  in  Andalusia  by  the  personal 
bravery  of  our  soldiers." 

"  I  wish  I  had  seen  that  ceremony,"  said 
Kate. 

"  And  I  wish  I  had  myself  been  one  of  the 
heroes  carrying  the  Standard  I  had  won,"  added 
Annabel. 

The  Duke  smiled  at  the  pretty  volunteers,  and 
continued,  "  It  was  a  very  interesting  sight. 
Three  royal  Dukes,  many  Generals  and  foreign 
Ambassadors,  and  the  finest  troops  in  London 
were  present.  We  had  some  good  music,  and  a 
short  religious  service,  and  then  the  Archbishop 
deposited  the  flags  on  each  side  of  the  Altar." 

"  I  like  these  military  ceremonies,"  said  the 
Duchess.  "  I  shall  not  forget  the  Proclamation 
of  Peace  after  Waterloo.  What  a  procession  of 
mediaeval  splendour  it  was !  " 


96     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  I  remember  it,  though  I  was  only  a  little 
boy,"  said  Exham.  "The  Proclamation  was 
read  three  times,  —  at  Temple  Bar,  at  Charing 
Cross,  and  at  The  Royal  Exchange.  The  blast 
of  trumpets  before  and  after  each  reading  !  —  I  can 
hear  it  yet !  " 

"  And  the  Thanksgiving  at  St.  Paul's  after  the 
procession  was  just  as  impressive,"  continued 
the  Duchess.  "  The  Prince  Regent  and  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  walked  together,  and  Well- 
ington carried  the  Sword  of  State.  It  was  a 
gorgeous  festival  set  to  trumpets  and  drums,  and 
the  roll  of  organ  music,  and  the  seraphic  sing- 
ing of  ' Lo  !  the  conquering  hero  comes'  The 
Duke  could  have  asked  England  for  anything 
he  desired  that  day." 

"Yet  he  is  very  unpopular  now,"  said  Kate, 
timidly.  "  Even  my  father  thinks  he  carries 
everything  with  too  high  a  hand." 

"  His  military  training  must  be  considered, 
Miss  Atheling,"  said  the  Duke.  "  And  the 
country  needs  a  tight  rein  now." 

"  He  may  hold  it  too  tight,"  said  Exham,  in  a 
low  voice. 

Then  the  conversation  was  turned  to  the  the- 
atres, and  while  they  were  talking,  Squire  Athel- 
ing was  introduced.  He  had  called  to  escort 
his  daughter  home ;  and  after  a  short  delay,  Kate 
was  ready  to  accompany  him.  The  Duke  and 
the  Squire  —  who  were  deep  in  some  item  of 
political  news  —  went  to  the  entrance  hall  to- 


Annabel  Vyner  97 

gather;  and  Lord  Exham  took  Kate's  hand,  and 
led  her  down  the  great  stairway.  It  was  now 
lighted  with  a  profusion  of  wax  candles  in  silver 
candelabra.  They  were  too  happy  to  speak, 
and  there  was  no  need  of  speech.  Like  two 
notes  of  music  made  for  each  other,  though  dis- 
similar, they  were  one;  and  the  melody  in  the 
heart  of  Piers  was  the  melody  in  the  heart  of 
Kate.  The  unison  was  perfect ;  why  then  should 
it  be  explained?  Very  slowly  they  came  down 
the  low  broad  steps,  hardly  feeling  their  feet 
upon  them;  for  spirit  mingled  with  spirit,  and 
gave  them  the  sense  of  ethereal  motion. 

When  they  reached  the  vestibule,  Kate's  maid 
advanced  and  threw  round  her  a  wrap  of  pink 
silk,  trimmed  with  minever ;  and  as  Piers  watched 
the  shrouding  of  her  rose-like  face  in  the  pretty 
hood,  a  sudden  depression  came  like  a  cloud  over 
him.  Oh,  yes  !  True  love  has  these  moments  of 
deep  gloom,  in  which  intense  feeling  suspends 
both  movement  and  speech.  He  could  only 
look  into  the  warm,  secret  foldings  of  silk  and 
fur  which  hid  Kate's  beauty;  he  had  not  even 
the  common  words  of  courtesy  at  his  command ; 
but  Kate  divined  the  much  warmer  "  good-night " 
that  was  masked  by  the  formal  bow  and  un- 
covered head. 

After  the  departure  of  the  Athelings,  father 
and  son  walked  silently  up  the  stairs  together ; 
but  at  the  top  of  them,  the  Duke  paused  and  said, 
"  Piers,  the  King  opens  Parliament  on  the  Second 

7 


98     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

of  November.  We  have  only  three  days'  truce. 
Then  for  the  fight" 

"  We  have  foemen  worthy  of  our  steel.  Grey 
—  Durham  —  Brougham  —  Russel  and  Graham. 
They  will  not  easily  be  put  down." 

"  We  shall  win." 

"  Perhaps.  The  House  of  Lords  is  very  near 
of  one  mind.  Will  you  come  to  my  smoking- 
room  and  have  a  pipe  of  Turkish?  " 

"  I  must  see  the  ladies  again ;  afterwards  I  may 
do  so." 

With  these  words  they  parted,  and  Piers  went 
dreamily  along  the  state  corridor.  In  its  dim, 
soft  light,  he  suddenly  saw  Miss  Vyner  approach- 
ing him.  He  was  thinking  of  Kate ;  but  he  had 
no  wish  to  escape  Annabel.  He  was  even  inter- 
ested in  watching  her  splendid  figure  in  motion. 
Only  from  some  Indian  loom  had  come  that  mar- 
vellous tissue  of  vivid  scarlet  with  its  embroidery 
of  golden  butterflies.  It  made  her  look  like 
some  superb  flower.  She  smiled  as  she  reached 
Piers,  and  said,  — 

"  I  only  am  left  to  wish  you  a  '  good-night 
and  happy  dreams.'  The  Ladies  Warwick  were 
sleepy,  the  Duchess  longing  to  be  rid  of  such  a 
lot  of  tiresome  girls,  and  I  — 

"  What  of '  I '  ?  "  he  asked  with  a  sudden,  un- 
accountable interest. 

"I  am  going  to  the  Land  where  I  always  go 
in  sleep.  I  shut  my  eyes,  and  I  am  there." 

"  Then,  '  Good-night.' " 


Annabel  Vyner  99 

"  Good-night."  She  put  her  little,  warm, 
brown  hand,  flashing  with  gems,  into  his;  and 
then  with  one  long,  unwinking  gaze  —  in  which 
she  caught  Piers'  gaze  —  she  strangely  troubled 
the  young  man.  His  blood  grew  hot  as  fire ;  his 
heart  bounded ;  his  face  was  like  a  flame ;  and  he 
clasped  her  hand  with  an  unconscious  fervour. 
She  laughed  lightly,  drew  it  away,  and  passed  on. 
But  as  she  did  so,  the  Indian  scarf  she  had  over 
her  arm  trailed  across  his  feet,  and  thrilled  him 
like  some  living  thing.  He  had  a  sense  of  intox- 
ication, and  he  hurried  forward  to  his  own  room, 
and  threw  himself  into  a  chair. 

"  It  is  that  strange  perfume  that  clings  around 
her,"  he  said  in  a  voice  of  controlled  excitement. 
"  I  perceived  it  as  soon  as  I  met  her.  It  makes 
me  drowsy.  It  makes  me  feverish  —  and  yet 
how  delicious  it  is !  "  He  threw  his  head  back- 
ward, and  lay  with  closed  eyes,  moving  neither 
hand  nor  foot  for  some  minutes.  Then  he  rose, 
and  began  to  walk  about  the  room,  lifting  and 
putting  down  books,  and  papers,  and  odd  trifles, 
as  they  came  in  the  way  of  his  restless  fingers. 
And  when  at  last  he  found  speech,  it  was  to  re- 
proach himself —  his  real  self —  the  man  within 
him. 

"You,  poor,  weak,  false-hearted  lover!"  he 
muttered  bitterly.  "  Piers  Exham  !  You  hardly 
needed  temptation.  I  am  ashamed  of  you ! 
Ashamed  of  you,  Piers  !  Oh,  Kate  !  I  have  been 
false  to  you.  It  was  only  a  passing  thought, 


ioo     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Kate  ;  but  you  would  not  have  given  to  another 
even  a  passing  thought.  Forgive  me.  0  Thou 
Dear  One!  " 

"  Thou  Dear  One  !  "  These  three  words  had 
a  meaning  of  inexpressible  tenderness  to  him. 
For  one  night,  —  when  as  yet  their  Love  was  but 
learning  to  speak,  —  one  warm,  sweet  July  night, 
as  they  stood  under  the  damask  roses,  he  said  to 
Kate,  — 

"  How  beautiful  are  the  words  and  tones  which 
your  mother  uses  to  the  Squire.  She  does  not 
speak  thus  to  every  one." 

"  No,"  replied  Kate.  "  To  strangers  mother 
always  says  'you.'  To  those  she  loves,  she  says 


And  Piers  answered,  "Dear  —  if  only  —  "  and 
then  he  let  the  silence  speak  for  him.  But  Kate 
understood,  and  she  whispered  softly,  — 

"  Thou  Dear  OneT 

It  seemed  to  Piers  as  if  no  words  to  be  spoken 
in  time  or  in  eternity  could  ever  make  those 
three  words  less  sweet.  They  came  to  his  mem- 
ory always  like  a  sigh  of  soft  music  on  a  breath 
of  roses.  And  so  it  was  at  this  hour.  They 
filled  his  heart,  they  filled  his  room  with  soft  de- 
light. He  stood  still  to  realise  their  melody  and 
their  fragrance,  the  music  of  their  sweet  inflec- 
tions, the  perfume  of  their  pure  and  perfect 
love. 

"  Thou  Dear  One  /"  He  said  these  words 
again  and  again.  "  It  has  always  been  Kate  and 


Annabel  Vyner  101 

Piers !     Always  7  and    Thou  —  and  as    for   the 
Other  One—" 

This  mental  query,  utterly  unthought  of  and 
uncalled  for,  very  much  annoyed  him.  Who 
or  What  was  it  that  suggested  "  The  Other 
One  "  ?  Not  himself;  he  was  sure  of  that.  He 
went  to  his  father,  and  they  talked  of  the  King, 
and  the  Ministers,  and  the  great  Mr.  Brougham, 
whom  both  King  and  Ministers  feared  —  but  all 
the  time,  and  far  below  the  tide  of  this  restless 
conversation,  Piers  heard  this  very  different 
one, — 

"  /  and  Thou  !  " 

"  And  the  Other  One" 

"There  is  no  '  Other  One.'  " 

"Annabel." 

"  No." 

"  If  Annabel  were  Destiny?  " 

"  Will  is  stronger  than  Destiny." 

"If  Annabel  should  be  Will." 

"  Love  is  stronger  than  Will." 

"  It  is  Kate  and  Piers." 

"  And  the  Other  One." 

He  grew  impatient  at  this  persistence  of  an 
idea  that  he  had  not  evoked,  that  he  had,  in  fact, 
denied.  But  he  could  not  exorcise  it.  His  very 
dreams  were  made  and  mingled  of  the  two  girls, 
—  Kate,  whom  he  loved,  Annabel,  who  came 
like  a  splendid  destiny  to  trouble  love.  In  the 
pageant  of  sleep,  he  lost  that  will-power  which 
controlled  his  life;  he  was  tossed  to-and-fro  be- 


IO2     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

tween   blending   shadows:    Kate   was   Annabel; 
Annabel  was  Kate ;  and  the  fretful,  unreasonable 
drama  went   on  through  restless  hours,   always 
to  the  same  tantalising  refrain,  — 
"  /,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One' " 


Beginning  of  the  Great  Struggle   103 


CHAPTER  SIXTH 

THE  BEGINNING   OF    THE  GREAT  STRUGGLE 

THERE  is  no  eternity  for  nations.  Individuals 
may  be  punished  hereafter;  nations  are  punished 
here.  In  the  first  years  of  the  Nineteenth  Century, 
Englishmen  were  mad  on  war ;  and  though  wise 
men  warned  them  of  the  ruin  that  stalks  after  war, 
no  one  believed  their  report.  The  treasure  that 
would  have  now  fed  the  starving  population  of 
England,  had  been  spent  in  killing  Frenchmen. 
Bad  harvests  followed  the  war  years,  taxation 
was  increased,  wages  were  lowered  and  lowered, 
credit  was  gone,  trade  languished,  hunger  or 
scrimping  carefulness  was  in  every  household. 
For  the  iniquitous  Corn  Laws  of  1815,  forbidding 
the  importation  of  foreign  grain,  had  raised  Eng- 
lish wheat  to  eighty  shillings  a  quarter.  And 
how  were  working  men  to  buy  bread  at  such  a 
price?  No  wonder,  they  clamoured  for  a  House 
of  Commons  that  should  represent  their  case, 
and  repeal  Acts  that  could  only  benefit  one  class, 
and  inflict  ruin  and  misery  on  all  others. 

A  feeling  therefore  of  intense  anxiety  pervaded 
the  country  on  the  Second  of  November,  —  the 
day  on  which  the  King  was  to  open  Parliament. 


IO4     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

No  one  could  work;  every  one  was  waiting  for 
the  King's  speech.  He  was  as  yet  very  popular ; 
it  was  his  first  message  to  his  people ;  and  they 
openly  begged  him  for  some  word  of  hope  — 
some  expression  of  sympathy  for  Reform.  He 
went  in  great  state  to  Westminster,  and  was 
cheered  by  the  city  as  he  went.  "Will  Your 
Majesty  say  a  word  for  the  poor?  God  bless 
Your  Majesty  !  Stand  by  Reform !  "  Such  ex- 
pressions assailed  him  on  every  hand ;  they  were 
the  prayers  of  a  people  wronged  and  suffering, 
yet  disposed  to  be  patient  and  loyal,  and  to  seek 
Reform  only  to  spare  themselves  and  the  country 
the  ruth  and  ruin  of  Revolution. 

Richmoor  House  was  on  the  way  of  the  royal 
procession,  and  Kate  was  there  to  watch  it.  A 
little  later,  a  great  company  began  to  assemble 
in  its  rooms ;  for  the  Duke  had  promised  to  bring, 
or  to  send,  the  earliest  news  of  the  event.  There 
was  however  an  intense  restlessness  among  these 
splendidly  attired  men  and  women.  They  could 
not  separate  Reform  from  Revolution ;  and  the 
French  Revolution  was  yet  red  and  bloody  in 
their  memories.  They  still  heard  the  thunder  of 
those  famous  "Three  Days  of  July,"  and  there 
was  constantly  before  their  eyes,  the  heir  of  forty 
kings  finding  in  a  British  palace  an  ignominious 
shelter.  Not  only  was  this  the  case,  but  French 
noblemen,  in  poverty  and  exile,  were  earning  pre- 
carious livings  all  around ;  and  English  noblemen 
and  ladies  looked  forward  with  terror  to  a  similar 


Beginning  of  the  Great  Struggle    105 

fate,  if  the  Reformers  obtained  their  desire.  In- 
deed, Sir  Robert  Inglis  had  boldly  prophesied, 
"  Reform  would  sweep  the  House  of  Lords  clear 
in  ten  years." 

No  wonder  then  the  company  waiting  in  Rich- 
moor  House  were  restless  and  anxious.  Kate  did 
not  permit  herself  to  speak,  and  Mrs.  Atheling 
had  very  prudently  remained  in  her  own  home. 
She  had  told  the  Squire  she  "  must  say  what 
she  thought,  if  she  died  for  it !  "  and  the  Squire 
had  answered,  "  To  be  sure,  Maude.  That  is 
thy  right ;  only,  for  goodness'  sake,  say  it  in  thy 
own  house  !  "  But  though  Kate  knew  she  would 
follow  her  mother's  example,  if  she  was  brought 
to  catechism  on  the  subject,  she  did  not  have 
much  fear  of  such  a  result;  there  were  too  many 
older  ladies  present,  all  of  them  desirous  to 
express  the  hatreds  and  hopes  of  their  class. 

Yet  it  was  these  emotional,  expressional  women 
that  Annabel  Vyner  naturally  joined.  She  stood 
among  them  like  a  splendid  incarnation  of  its 
spirit.  She  hoped  vehemently  that  "  Earl  Grey 
and  Lord  John  Russell  would  be  beheaded  as  trai- 
tors ;  "  she  declared  she  would  "  go  with  delight 
to  Tower  Hill  and  see  the  axe  fall."  She  flashed 
into  contempt,  when  she  spoke  of  Mr.  Brougham. 
"  Botany  Bay  and  hard  labour  might  do  for  him ; 
and  as  for  the  waiting  crowds  in  the  streets,  the 
proper  thing  was  to  shoot  them  down,  like  rabid 
animals."  She  wondered  "  the  Duke  of  Wellington 
did  not  do  so."  These  sentiments  were  vivified 


io6     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

by  the  passion  that  blazed  in  her  black  eyes  and 
flushed  her  brown  face  crimson,  and  by  the  gown 
of  bright  yellow  Chinese  crape  which  she  wore ; 
for  it  fluttered  and  waved  with  her  impetuous 
movements,  and  made  a  kind  of  luminous  atmos- 
phere around  her. 

"  What  a  superb  creature !  "  exclaimed  Mr. 
Disraeli  to  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Norton.  And  Mrs. 
Norton  put  up  her  glass  and  looked  at  Annabel 
critically. 

"  Superb  indeed  —  to  look  at.  Would  you  like 
to  live  with  her?" 

"  It  would  be  exciting." 

"  More  so  than  your  '  Vivian  Grey,'  which  I 
have  just  read.  It  is  the  book  of  the  year." 

"  No,  that  honour  belongs  to  a  little  volume  of 
poems  by  a  young  man  called  Tennyson.  Get 
it;  you  will  read  every  word  it  contains." 

"  I  am  wedded  to  my  idols,  —  Byron  and  Scott 
and  Keble.  I  am  much  interested  at  present 
in  those  '  Imaginary  Conversations '  which  that 
queer  Mr.  Landor  has  given  us.  They  are  worth 
reading,  I  assure  you." 

"But  why  read  them?  Listen  to  the  'Con- 
versations '  around  us  !  They  are  of  Revolution, 
Civil  War,  Exile,  and  the  Headsman.  Could  any- 
thing be  more  '  Imaginary '  ?  " 

"Who  can  tell?  Here  comes  Richmoor.  He 
may  be  able  to  prognosticate.  What  a  murmur 
of  voices  !  What  invisible  movement !  Can  you 
divine  the  news  from  the  messenger's  face  ?  " 


Beginning  of  the  Great  Struggle   107 

"  He  thinks  that  he  brings  good  news.  He 
may  be  fatally  wrong." 

The  Duke  certainly  thought  that  he  brought 
good  news.  He  was  much  excited.  He  came 
forward  with  his  hands  extended,  palms  upward. 

"The  King  stands  by  us!"  he  cried.  "God 
save  the  King !  " 

Twenty  voices  called  out  at  once,  "  What  did 
he  say?" 

"  He  said  plainly  that  in  spite  of  the  public 
opinion  expressed  so  loudly  in  recent  elections, 
Reform  would  have  no  sanction  from  the  Govern- 
ment. I  only  stayed  until  the  end  of  the  royal 
speech.  Yet  in  some  way  rumours  of  its  purport 
must  have  reached  the  street.  In  the  neighbour- 
hood, there  was  much  agitation,  and  even  anger." 

Then  Kate  slipped  away  from  the  excited 
throng.  Piers  had  evidently  remained  for  the 
discussion  on  the  King's  speech;  and  it  might 
be  midnight  when  the  House  adjourned.  The 
winter  day  was  fast  darkening ;  she  ordered  her 
chairmen,  and  the  pretty  sedan  was  brought  into 
the  vestibule  for  her.  She  had  no  fear,  though 
the  very  gloom  and  silence  of  the  waiting  crowd 
was  more  indicative  of  danger  than  noise  or 
threats  would  have  been.  When  she  reached 
Hyde  Park  corner,  however,  angry  faces  pressed 
around  a  little  too  close,  and  she  was  alarmed. 
Then  she  threw  back  her  hood  and  looked  out 
calmly  at  the  crowd,  and  immediately  a  clear 
voice  cried  out,  "  It  is  Edgar  Atheling's  sister ! 


io8     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Take  good  care  of  her ! "  And  there  was  a  cheer 
and  a  cry,  and  about  twenty  men  closed  round 
the  chair,  and  saw  it  safely  to  its  destination. 

Then  Cecil  North  stepped  to  the  door  and 
opened  it  "I  knew  it  was  you,  Mr.  North!  " 
cried  Kate.  "  I  knew  your  voice.  How  kind  of 
you  to  come  all  the  way  with  me !  How  glad 
mother  will  be  to  see  you  !  " 

"  I  cannot  wait  a  moment,  Miss  Atheling.  Can 
you  give  me  any  news  ?  " 

"  Yes.  The  King  says  the  Government  will 
not  sanction  Reform." 

"Who  told  you  this?" 

"The  Duke  of  Richmoor  —  not  an  hour  ago." 

"  Then  '  good-night.'  I  am  afraid  there  will  be 
trouble." 

Mrs.  Atheling  and  Kate  were  afraid  also.  The 
murmur  of  the  crowd  grew  louder  and  louder  as 
the  tenor  of  the  King's  speech  became  known ; 
and  many  a  time  they  wished  themselves  in  the 
safety  and  solitude  of  their  Yorkshire  home.  So 
they  talked,  and  watched,  and  listened  until  the 
night  was  far  advanced.  Then  they  heard  the 
firm,  strong  step  of  the  Squire  on  the  pavement ; 
and  his  imperative  voice  in  denial  of  something 
said  by  a  group  of  men  whom  he  passed.  In  a 
few  minutes  he  entered  the  drawing-room  with 
an  angry  light  in  his  eyes,  and  the  manner  of  a 
man  exasperated  by  opposition. 

"Whatever  is  it,  John?  Is  there  trouble 
already?"  asked  Mrs.  Atheling. 


Beginning  of  the  Great  Struggle   109 

"  Plenty  of  it,  and  like  to  be  more.  The  King 
has  spoken  like  a  fool." 

"  John  Atheling !     His  Majesty !  " 

"  His  Imbecility !  I  tell  you  what,  Maude, 
there  has  been  enough  said  to-day,  and  to-night, 
to  set  all  the  dogs  of  civil  war  loose.  Give  me 
a  bit  of  eating,  and  I  will  tell  thee  and  Kitty 
what  a  lot  of  idiots  are  met  together  in 
Westminster." 

The  Squire  always  wanted  a  deal  of  waiting 
upon ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  his  valet  was  bring- 
ing him  easy  slippers  and  a  loose  coat,  and  two 
handmaidens  serving  a  tray,  bearing  game  pastry, 
and  fruit  tarts,  and  clotted  cream.  But  he  would 
take  neither  wine,  nor  strong  ale,  — 

"Water  is  all  a  man  wants  that  gets  himself 
stirred  up  in  the  House  of  Commons,"  he  said. 
"And  if  I  had  been  in  the  Lords'  House,  I  would 
have  needed  nothing  but  a  strait-jacket." 

He  had  hardly  sat  down  to  eat,  when  Piers 
Exham  came  in.  No  one  could  have  been  more 
welcome,  and  the  young  man's  troubled  face 
brightened  in  the  sunshine  of  Kate's  smile,  and 
in  the  honest  kindness  of  the  Squire's  greeting. 
"  I  was  just  going  to  tell  Mrs.  Atheling  all  I 
knew  about  to-night's  blundering,"  he  said; 
"  but  now  we  will  have  your  report  first,  for 
you  have  seen  the  Duke,  I  '11  warrant." 

"Indeed,  Squire,  the  Duke  is  not  dissatisfied — • 
though  the  general  opinion  is,  that  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  has  committed  an  egregious  mistake." 


no     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  I  should  n't  wonder.  Wellington  does  not 
know  the  difference  between  a  field-marshal  and 
a  Cabinet  Minister.  What  did  he  say?" 

"  He  said  that  as  long  as  he  held  any  office  in 
the  Government,  he  would  resist  Reform.  He 
said  there  was  no  need  of  Reform ;  that  we  had 
the  best  government  in  the  world.  The  Duke  of 
Devonshire,  whom  I  have  just  seen,  told  me  that 
this  statement  produced  a  feeling  of  the  utmost 
dismay,  even  in  the  calm  atmosphere  of  the 
House  of  Lords." 

"  Calm  !  "  interrupted  the  Squire.  "  You  had 
better  say,  Incurable  prosiness." 

"Wellington  noticed  the  suppressed  excite- 
ment, the  murmur,  and  the  movement,  and  asked 
Devonshire  in  a  whisper,  '  What  can  I  have  said 
to  cause  such  great  disturbance?'  And  Devon- 
shire shrugged  his  shoulders  and  answered  can- 
didly, 'You  have  announced  the  fall  of  your 
government,  that  is  all.'  " 

"Wellington  considers  the  nation  as  a  mu- 
tinous regiment,"  answered  the  Squire.  "  He 
thinks  the  arguments  for  Reformers  ought  to 
be  cannon  balls ;  but  Englishmen  will  not  endure 
a  military  government." 

"  It  would  be  better  than  a  mob  government, 
Squire.  Remember  France." 

"  Englishmen  are  not  Frenchmen,"  said  Kate. 
"You  ought  to  remember  that,  Piers.  English- 
men are  the  most  fair,  just,  reasonable,  brave, 
loyal,  honourable  people  on  the  face  of  the  earth  ! " 


Beginning  of  the  Great  Struggle   1 1 1 

"  Well  done,  Kitty  !  "  cried  the  Squire.  "  It 
takes  a  little  lass  like  thee  to  find  adjectives 
plenty  enough,  and  good  enough,  for  thy  own. 
My  word !  I  wish  thou  couldst  tell  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  what  thou  thinkest  of  his  fellow-citi- 
zens. He  would  happen  trust  them  more,  and 
treat  them  better." 

"  There  is  Mr.  Peel  too,"  she  continued. 
"  Both  he  and  the  Duke  of  Wellington  are 
always  down  on  the  people.  And  yet  the  Duke 
has  led  these  same  people  from  one  victory  to 
another;  and  Mr.  Peel  is  one  of  the  people. 
His  father  was  a  day-labourer,  and  he  ought  to 
be  proud  of  it;  William  Cobbett  is,  and  William 
Cobbett  is  a  greater  man  than  Robert  Peel." 

"  Now  then,  Kitty,  that  is  far  enough ;  for 
thou  art  wrong  already.  Cobbett  is  n't  a  greater 
man  than  Peel ;  he  is  n't  a  great  man  at  all,  he 
is  only  a  clever  man.  But  the  man  for  my 
money  is  Henry  Brougham.  He  drives  the 
world  before  him.  He  is  a  multitude.  He  had 
just  one  idea  to-day,  —  Reform  and  again  Reform. 
He  played  that  tune  finely  to  the  House,  and 
they  danced  to  it  like  a  miracle.  Much  good  it 
will  do  them  !  " 

"  He  was  scarcely  decent,"  said  Piers.  "  He 
gave  notice,  as  you  must  have  heard,  in  the  most 
aggressive  manner  that  he  should  bring  '  Reform  ' 
to  an  immediate  issue." 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  Squire.  "  There  is 
doubtless  a  big  battle  before  us.  But,  mark  my 


112     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

words,  it  will  not  be  with  Wellington  and  Peel. 
They  signed  their  own  resignation  this  after- 
noon." 

"  That  is  what  my  father  thinks,"  said  Piers. 

"If  Wellington  could  only  have  held  his 
tongue !  "  said  the  Squire,  bitterly. 

"  And  if  Daniel  O'Connell  would  only  cease 
making  fun  A  the  Government." 

"  That  man  !     He  is  nobody  !  " 

"  You  mistake,  Squire.  His  buffoonery  is  fatal 
to  our  party.  I  tell  you  that  Ridicule  is  the 
lightning  that  kills.  Has  not  Aristophanes  tossed 
his  enemies  for  the  scorn  and  laughter  of  a 
thousand  cities  for  a  thousand  years?  I  fear 
O'Connell's  satire  and  joking,  far  more  than 
I  fear  Grey's  statesmanship,  or  Durham's  pop- 
ularity." 

Then  Piers  turned  to  Kate,  and  asked  if  she 
had  seen  the  royal  procession.  And  she  told 
him  about  her  visit,  and  about  Mr.  North's  inter- 
ference for  her  safety,  and  his  escort  of  her  home. 
Piers  was  much  annoyed  at  this  incident.  He 
begged  her  not  to  venture  into  the  streets  until 
public  feeling  had  abated,  or  was  controlled,  and 
asked  with  singular  petulance,  "  Who  is  this  Mr. 
North?  He  plays  the  mysterious  Knight  very 
well.  He  interferes  too  much." 

"  I  was  grateful  for  his  interference." 

"  Why  did  you  not  remain  at  Richmoor  until  I 
returned?  I  expected  it,  Kate." 

"  I  was  afraid ;  and  I  knew  my  mother  would 


Beginning  of  the  Great  Struggle    1 13 

be  anxious  —  and  I  felt  so  sad  among  strangers. 
You  know,  Piers,  I  have  always  lived  among  my 
own  people  —  among  those  who  loved  me." 

This  little  bit  of  conversation  had  taken  place 
while  the  tray  was  being  removed,  and  the 
Squire  and  Mrs.  Atheling  were  talking  about  the 
engagements  for  the  next  day,  so  that  definite 
orders  might  be  given  concerning  the  carriage 
and  horses.  The  movements  of  the  servants  had 
enabled  Piers  and  Kate,  quite  naturally,  to  with- 
draw a  little  from  the  fireside  group ;  and  when 
Kate  made  her  tender  assertion,  about  living  with 
those  who  loved  her,  Piers's  heart  was  full  to  over- 
flowing. This  girl  of  sweet  nature,  with  her  inno- 
cent beauty  and  ingenuous  expressions,  pos- 
sessed his  noblest  feelings.  He  clasped  her 
hands  in  his,  and  said, — 

"  Oh,  Kate  !  I  loved  you  when  you  were  only 
twelve  years  old;  I  love  you  now  beyond  all 
measure  of  words.  And  you  love  me  ?  Speak, 
Dear  One !  " 

"  I  love  none  but  thee  !  " 

The  next  moment  she  was  standing  before 
her  father  and  mother.  Piers  held  her  hand. 
He  was  talking  to  them  in  low  but  eager  tones, 
yet  she  did  not  realise  a  word,  until  he  said,  — 

"  Give  her  to  me,  my  friends.  We  have  loved 
each  other  for  many  years.  We  shall  love  each 
other  for  ever.  She  is  the  wife  of  .my  soul.  With- 
out her,  I  can  only  half  live."  Then  bending  to 

Kate,  he  asked  her  fondly,   "  Do  you  love  me, 

8 


114     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Kate?  Do  you  love  me?  Ask  your  heart  about 
it.  Tell  us  truly,  do  you  love  me?" 

Then  she  lifted  her  sweet  eyes  to  her  lover,  her 
father,  and  her  mother,  and  answered,  "I  love 
Piers  with  all  my  heart." 

The  Squire  was  much  troubled  and  affected. 
"  This  is  taking  a  bit  of  advantage,  Piers,"  he  said. 
"  There  is  a  time  for  everything,  and  this  is  not 
my  time  for  giving  my  little  girl  away." 

"  Speak  for  us,  Mrs.  Atheling,"  said  Piers. 

"  Nay,  I  think  the  Squire  is  quite  right,"  she 
replied.  "  Love  is  n't  worth  much  if  Duty  does 
not  stand  with  it" 

"  And  there  is  far  more,  Piers,"  continued  the 
Squire,  "  in  such  a  marriage  as  you  propose  than 
a  girl's  and  a  lover's  'yes.'  When  the  country 
has  settled  a  bit,  we  will  talk  about  love  and 
wedding.  I  can't  say  more  for  my  life,  can  I, 
Mother?" 

"It  is  enough,"  answered  Mrs.  Atheling. 
"  Why,  we  might  have  a  civil  war,  and  what  not ! 
To  choose  a  proper  mate  is  good  enough ;  but  it 
is  quite  as  important  to  choose  a  proper  time  for 
mating.  Now  then,  this  is  not  a  proper  time, 
when  everything  is  at  ups-and-downs,  and  this 
way  and  that  way,  and  great  public  events,  that 
no  one  can  foretell,  crowding  one  on  the  neck  of 
the  other.  Let  things  be  as  they  are,  children. 
If  you  only  knew  it,  you  are  in  the  Maytime  of 
your  lives.  I  would  n't  hurry  it  over,  if  I  was 
you.  It  won't  come  back  again." 


Beginning  of  the  Great  Struggle  115 

Then  Kate  kissed  her  father,  and  her  mother, 
and  her  lover;  and  Piers  kissed  Kate,  and  Mrs. 
Atheling,  and  put  his  hand  into  the  Squire's 
hand;  and  the  solemn  joy  of  betrothal  was 
there,  though  it  was  not  openly  admitted. 

In  truth  the  Squire  was  much  troubled  at 
events  coming  to  any  climax.  He  would  not 
suffer  his  daughter  to  enter  into  an  engagement 
not  openly  acknowledged  and  approved  by  both 
families ;  and  yet  he  was  aware  that  at  the  present 
time  the  Duke  would  consider  any  subject  —  not 
public  or  political  —  as  an  interruption,  perhaps 
as  an  intrusion.  Besides  which,  the  Squire's  own 
sense  of  honour  and  personal  pride  made  him 
averse  to  force  an  affair  so  manifestly  to  the  pre- 
ferment of  his  daughter.  It  looked  like  taking 
advantage  of  circumstances  —  of  presuming  upon 
a  kindness;  in  fact,  the  more  Squire  Atheling 
thought  of  the  alliance,  the  less  he  was  disposed 
to  sanction  it.  Under  no  circumstances,  could  he 
give  Kate  such  a  fortune  as  the  heir  of  a  great 
Dukedom  had  a  right  to  expect.  She  must  enter 
the  Richmoor  family  at  a  disadvantage  —  perhaps 
even  on  sufferance. 

"  No  !  by  the  Lord  Harry,  no  !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  I  '11  have  none  of  the  Duke's  toleration  on  any 
matter.  I  am  sorry  I  took  his  seat.  I  wish 
Edgar  was  here  —  he  ought  to  be  here,  looking 
after  his  mother  and  sister,  instead  of  setting  up 
rogues  on  Glasgow  Green  against  their  King  and 
Country !  Of  course,  there  is  Love  to  reckon 


n6     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

with,  and  Love  does  wonders  —  but  it  is  money 
that  makes  marriage." 

With  such  reflections,  and  many  others  growing 
out  of  them,  the  Squire  hardened  his  heart,  and 
strengthened  his  personal  sense  of  dignity,  until  he 
almost  taught  himself  to  believe  the  Duke  had  al- 
ready wounded  it.  In  this  temper  he  was  quite 
inclined  to  severely  blame  his  wife  for  not  "  put- 
ting a  stop  to  the  nonsense  when  it  first  began." 

"John,"  she  answered,  "we  are  both  of  a 
piece  in  that  respect." 

"  On  my  honour,  Mother." 

"  Don't  say  it,  John.  You  used  to  laugh  at  the 
little  lass  going  off  with  Edgar  and  Piers  fishing. 
You  used  to  tease  her  about  the  gold  brooch 
Piers  gave  her.  Many  a  time  you  have  called 
her  to  me,  '  the  little  Duchess.' " 

"Wiltthou  be  quiet?" 

"  I  am  only  reminding  thee." 

"Thou  needest  not.  I  wish  thou  wouldst  re- 
mind thy  son  that  he  has  a  sister  that  he  might 
look  after  a  bit." 

"  I  can  look  after  Kate  without  his  help.  He 
is  doing  far  better  business  than  hanging  around 
Dukes." 

"  If  thou  wantest  a  quarrel  this  morning,  Maude, 
I  'm  willing  to  give  thee  one.  I  say,  Edgar  ought 
to  be  here." 

"  What  for?  He  is  doing  work  that  we  will  all 
be  proud  enough  of  some  day.  Thou  oughtest  to 
be  helping  him,  instead  of  abusing  him.  I  want 


Beginning  of  the  Great  Struggle  1 1 7 

thee  to  open  this  morning's  Times,  and  read  the 
speech  he  made  in  Glasgow  City  Hall.  Thou 
couldst  not  have  made  such  a  speech  to  save  thy 
life." 

"  Say,  I  would  not  have  made  it,  and  then 
thou  wilt  say  the  very  truth." 

"  Read  it." 

"Not  I." 

"  Thou  darest  not.  Thou  knowest  it  would  make 
thee  turn  round  and  vote  with  the  Reformers." 

"  Roast  the  Reformers  !  I  wish  I  could  !  I 
would  not  have  believed  thou  couldst  have  said 
such  a  thing,  Maude.  How  darest  thou  even  think 
of  thy  husband  as  a  turncoat?  Why,  in  politics, 
it  is  the  unpardonable  sin." 

"  It  is  nothing  of  the  kind.  Not  it !  It  is  far 
worse  to  stick  to  a  sin,  than  to  turn  from  it.  If  I 
was  the  biggest  of  living  Tories,  and  I  found  out 
I  was  wrong,  I  would  stand  up  before  all  England 
and  turn  my  coat  in  the  sight  of  everybody.  I 
would  that.  When  I  read  thy  name  against  Mr. 
Brougham  bringing  up  Reform,  I  '11  swear  I 
could  have  cried  for  it !  " 

"  I  would  n't  wonder.  All  the  fools  are  not 
dead  yet.  But  I  hear  Kitty  and  her  lover  com- 
ing. I  wonder  what  they  are  talking  and  laugh- 
ing about?" 

"  Thou  hadst  better  not  ask  them.  I  '11  warrant, 
Piers  is  telling  her  the  same  sort  of  nonsense, 
thou  usedst  to  tell  me ;  and  they  will  both  of  them, 
believe  it,  no  doubt." 


n8     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

At  these  words  Piers  and  Kate  entered  the 
room  together.  They  were  going  for  a  gallop  in 
the  Park;  and  they  looked  so  handsome,  and  so 
happy,  that  neither  the  Squire  nor  Mrs.  Atheling 
'could  say  a  word  to  dash  their  pleasure.  The 
Squire,  indeed,  reminded  Piers  that  the  House 
met  at  two  o'clock ;  and  Piers  asked  blankly,  like 
a  man  who  neither  knew,  nor  cared  anything 
about  the  House,  "  Does  it?  "  With  the  words  on 
his  lips,  he  turned  to  Kate,  and  smiling  said,  "  Let 
us  make  haste,  my  dear.  The  morning  is  too  fine 
to  lose."  And  hand  in  hand,  they  said  a  hasty, 
joyful  "  good-bye  "  and  disappeared.  The  father 
and  mother  watched  them  down  the  street  until 
they  were  out  of  sight.  As  they  turned  away 
from  the  window,  their  eyes  met,  and  Mrs. 
Atheling  smiled.  The  Squire  looked  abashed 
and  disconcerted. 

"  Why  didst  not  thou  put  a  stop  to  such  non- 
sense, John?"  she  asked. 

Fortunately  at  this  moment  a  servant  entered 
to  tell  the  Squire  his  horse  was  waiting,  and  this 
interruption,  and  a  rather  effusive  parting,  let  him 
handsomely  out  of  an  embarrassing  answer. 

Then  Mrs.  Atheling  wrote  a  long  letter  to  her 
son,  and  looked  after  the  ways  of  her  household, 
and  knit  a  few  rounds  on  her  husband's  hunting 
stocking,  and  as  she  did  so  thought  of  Kate's 
future,  and  got  tired  of  trying  to  settle  it,  and 
so  left  it,  as  a  scholar  leaves  a  difficult  problem, 
for  the  Master  to  solve.  And  when  she  had 


Beginning  of  the  Great  Struggle  119 

reached  this  point  Kate  came  into  the  room. 
She  had  removed  her  habit,  and  the  joyous  look 
which  had  been  so  remarkable  two  hours  before 
was  all  gone.  The  girl  was  dashed  and  weary, 
and  her  mother  asked  her  anxiously,  "  If  she 
was  sick?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered ;  "  but  I  have  been  an- 
noyed, and  my  heart  is  heavy,  and  I  am  tired." 

"  Who  or  what  annoyed  you,  child  ?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you.  Piers  and  I  had  a  glorious 
ride,  and  were  coming  slowly  home,  when  sud- 
denly the  Richmoor  liveries  came  in  sight.  I 
saw  the  instant  change  on  Piers's  face,  and  I 
saw  Annabel  slightly  push  the  Duchess  and  say 
something.  And  the  Duchess  drew  her  brows 
together  as  we  passed  each  other,  and  though 
she  bowed,  I  could  see  that  she  was  angry  and 
astonished.  As  for  Annabel,  she  laughed  a  little, 
scornful  laugh,  and  threw  me  a  few  words  which 
I  could  not  catch.  It  was  a  most  unpleasant 
meeting ;  after  it  Piers  was  very  silent.  I  felt  as 
if  I  had  done  something  wrong,  and  yet  I  was 
indignant  at  myself  for  the  feeling." 

"What  did  Piers  say?" 

"  He  said  nothing  that  pleased  me.  He  fas- 
tened his  eyes  on  Annabel,  —  who  was  mar- 
vellously dressed  in  rose-coloured  velvet  and 
minever,  —  and  she  clapped  her  small  hands 
together  and  nodded  to  him  in  a  familiar  way, 
and,  bending  slightly  forward,  passed  on.  And 
after  that  he  did  not  talk  much.  All  his  love- 


I2O     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

making  was  over,  and  I  thought  he  was  glad 
when  we  reached  home.  I  think  Annabel  will 
certainly  take  my  lover  from  me." 

"  You  mean  that  she  has  made  up  her  mind  to 
be  Duchess  of  Richmoor?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  my  dear  Kate,  a  beautiful  woman  is 
strong,  and  money  is  stronger;  but  True  Love 
conquers  all" 


The  Lost  Ring  121 


CHAPTER   SEVENTH 

THE  LOST  RING 

"  To-MORROW  some  new  light  may  come,  and 
you  will  see  things  another  way,  Kitty."  This 
was  Mrs.  Atheling's  final  opinion,  and  Kitty  was 
inclined  to  take  all  the  comfort  there  was  in  it. 
She  was  sitting  then  in  her  mother's  room,  watch- 
ing her  dress  for  dinner,  and  admiring,  as  good 
daughters  will  always  do,  everything  she  could 
find  to  admire  about  the  yet  handsome  woman. 

"  You  have  such  beautiful  hair,  Mother.  I 
would  n't  wear  a  cap  if  I  was  you,"  she  said. 

"  Your  father  likes  a  bit  of  lace  on  my  head, 
Kitty.  He  says  it  makes  me  look  more  motherly." 

She  was  laying  the  "  bit  of  lace  "  on  her  brown 
hair  as  she  spoke.  Then  she  took  from  her  open 
jewel  case,  two  gold  pins  set  with  turquoise,  and 
fastened  the  arrangement  securely.  Kitty  watched 
her  with  loving  smiles,  and  finally  changed  the 
whole  fashion  of  the  bit  of  lace,  declaring  that  by 
so  doing  she  had  made  her  mother  twenty  years 
younger.  And  somehow  in  this  little  toilet  cere- 
mony, all  Kitty's  sorrow  passed  away,  and  she 
said,  "  I  wonder  where  my  fears  are  gone  to, 


122     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Mother ;  for  it  does  not  now  seem  hard  to  hope 
that  all  is  just  as  it  was." 

"  To  be  sure,  Kitty,  I  never  worry  much  about 
fears.  Fears  are  mostly  made  of  nothing;  and 
in  the  long  run  they  are  often  a  blessing.  With- 
out fears,  we  could  n't  have  hopes ;  now  could 
we?" 

"  Oh,  you  dear,  sweet,  good  Mother !  I  wish  I 
was  just  like  you  !  " 

"  Time  enough,  Kitty."  Then  a  look  of  love 
flashed  from  face  to  face,  and  struck  straight  from 
heart  to  heart ;  and  there  was  a  little  silence  that 
needed  no  words.  Kitty  lifted  a  ring  and  slipped 
it  on  her  finger.  It  was  a  hoop  of  fine,  dark  blue 
sapphires,  set  in  fretted  gold,  and  clasped  with  a 
tiny  padlock,  shaped  like  a  heart. 

"  What  a  lovely  ring !  "  she  cried.  "  Why  do 
you  not  wear  it,  Mother?" 

"Because  it  is  a  good  bit  too  small  now,  Kitty." 

"  Miss  Vyner's  hands  are  always  covered  with 
rings,  and  she  says  every  one  of  them  has  a 
romance." 

"  I  Ve  heard,  or  read,  something  like  that. 
There  was  a  woman  in  the  story-book,  was 
there  not,  who  kept  a  tally  of  her  lovers  on  a 
string  of  rings  they  had  given  her  ?  I  don't 
think  it  was  anything  to  her  credit.  I  should  n't 
wonder  if  that  is  a  bit  ill-natured.  I  ought  not  to 
say  such  a  thing,  so  don't  mind  it,  Kitty." 

"  Is  this  sapphire  band  yours,  Mother?  " 

"  To  be  sure  it  is." 


The  Lost  Ring  123 

"May  I  wear  it?" 

"  Well,  Kitty,  I  think  a  deal  of  that  ring.  You 
must  take  great  care  of  it." 

"So  then,  Mother,  one  of  your  rings  has  a 
story  too,  has  it?"  And  there  was  a  little  laugh 
for  answer,  and  Kitty  slipped  the  coveted  trinket 
on  her  finger,  and  held  up  her  hand  to  admire 
the  gleam  of  the  jewels,  as  she  said,  musingly,  "  I 
wonder  what  Piers  is  doing?  " 

"  I  would  n't  '  wonder,'  dearie.  Little  troubles 
are  often  worrited  into  big  troubles.  If  things 
are  let  alone,  they  work  themselves  right  I  '11 
warrant  Piers  is  unhappy  enough." 

But  Mrs.  Atheling's  warrant  was  hardly  justi- 
fied. Piers  should  have  gone  to  the  House ;  but 
he  went  instead  to  his  room,  threw  himself  among 
the  cushions  of  a  divan,  and  with  a  motion  of  his 
head  indicated  to  his  servant  that  he  wanted  his 
Turkish  pipe.  The  strange  inertia  and  indiffer- 
ence that  had  so  suddenly  assailed,  still  domi- 
nated him,  and  he  had  no  desire  to  combat  it. 
He  was  neither  sick  nor  weary ;  yet  he  seemed 
to  have  lost  all  control  over  his  feelings.  Had 
the  man  within  the  man  "  gone  off  guard "  ? 
Have  we  not  all  —  yes,  we  have  all  of  us  suc- 
cumbed to  just  such  intervals  of  supreme,  inex- 
pressible listlessness  and  insensibility?  We  are 
"  not  all  there,"  but  where  has  our  inner  self 
gone  to?  And  what  is  it  doing?  It  gives  us  no 
account  of  such  lapses. 

Piers  asked  no  questions  of  himself.     He  was 


124     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

like  a  man  dreaming;  for  if  his  Will  was  not 
asleep,  it  was  at  least  quiescent  He  made  no 
effort  to  control  his  thoughts,  which  drifted  from 
Annabel  to  Kate,  and  from  Kate  to  Annabel,  in 
the  vagrant,  inconsequent  manner  which  acknowl- 
edges neither  the  guidance  of  Reason  or  Will. 
And  as  the  Levantine  vapour  lulled  his  brain,  he 
felt  a  pleasure  in  this  surrender  of  his  noblest 
attributes.  He  thought  of  Annabel  as  he  had 
seen  her  the  previous  evening,  dressed  in  a 
shaded  satin  of  blue  and  green,  trimmed  with 
the  tips  of  peacock  feathers.  The  same  resplen- 
dent ornaments  were  in  her  strong,  wavy,  black 
hair,  and  round  her  throat  was  a  necklace  of 
emeralds  and  amethysts.  "  What  a  Duchess  of 
Richmoor  she  would  make  !  "  he  thought.  "  How 
stately  and  proud !  How  well  she  would  wear 
the  coronet  and  the  gold  strawberry  leaves,  and 
the  crimson  robe  and  ermine  of  her  state  dress ! 
Yes,  Annabel  would  be  a  proper  Duchess;  but 
—  but  — "  and  then  he  was  sitting  with  Kate 
among  the  tall  brackens,  where  the  Yorkshire 
hills  threw  miles  of  shadow.  She  was  in  her 
riding  dress ;  but  her  little  velvet  cap  was  in 
her  hand,  and  the  fresh  wind  was  blowing  her 
brown  hair  into  bewitching  tendrils  about  her 
lovely  face.  How  well  he  knew  the  sweet  serious- 
ness of  her  downcast  eyes,  the  rich  bloom  of  her 
cheeks  and  lips,  the  tender  smile  with  which  she 
always  answered  his  "  Kate  !  Sweet  Kate  !  " 
Even  through  all  his  listlessness,  this  vision 


The  Lost  Ring  125 

moved  him,  and  he  heard  his  heart  say,  "  Oh, 
Kate,  wife  of  my  soul !  Oh,  Beloved  !  Love  of 
my  life,  who  can  part  us?  Thou  and  I,  Kate! 
Thou  and  I  —  " 

"  And  the  Other  One." 

From  whom  or  from  where  came  the  words  ? 
Piers  heard  them  with  his  spiritual  sense  plainly, 
and  their  suggestion  annoyed  him.  Now  if  we 
stir  under  a  nightmare,  it  is  gone ;  and  this  faint 
rebellion  broke  the  chain  of  that  mental  inertia 
which  had  held  him  at  least  three  hours  under 
its  spell.  He  moved  irritably,  and  in  so-doing 
threw  down  the  lid  of  the  tobacco  jar,  and  then 
rose  to  his  feet.  In  a  moment,  he  was  "  all 
there." 

"  I  ought  to  be  in  the  House,"  he  muttered, 
and  he  touched  the  bell  for  his  valet,  and  dressed 
with  less  deliberation  than  was  his  wont.  And 
during  the  toilet  he  was  aware  of  a  certain  men- 
tal anger  that  longed  to  expend  itself:  "  If  Mr. 
Brougham  is  as  insufferably  dictatorial  as  he  was 
last  night,  if  Mr.  O'Connell  only  plays  the 
buffoon  again,  we  shall  meet  in  a  narrow  path  — 
and  one  of  us  will  fare  ill,"  he  muttered. 

The  hour  generally  comes  when  we  are  ready 
for  it;  and  Piers  found  both  gentlemen  in  the 
tempers  he  detested.  He  gladly  accepted  his 
own  challenge,  and  the  Squire  was  so  interested 
in  the  wordy  fight  that  he  did  not  return  home 
to  dinner.  Mrs.  Atheling  neither  worried  nor 
waited.  She  knew  that  the  Squire's  vote  might 


126     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

be  wanted  at  any  inconvenient  hour;  and,  be- 
sides, the  night  had  set  stormily  in,  and  she  said 
cheerfully  to  Kate,  "  It  would  n't  do  for  father 
to  get  a  wetting  and  then  be  hours  in  damp 
clothes.  He  is  far  better  sitting  to-day's  business 
out  while  he  is  there." 

But  the  evening  dragged  wearily,  in  spite  of 
the  efforts  of  both  women  to  make  little  pleas- 
antries. Kate's  whole  being  was  in  her  sense  of 
hearing.  She  was  listening  for  a  step  that  did 
not  come.  On  other  nights  there  had  been  visi- 
tors; she  heard  the  roll  of  carriages  and  the 
clash  of  the  heavy  front  door;  but  this  dreary 
night  no  roll  of  wheels  broke  the  stillness  of  the 
aristocratic  Square;  and  she  listened  for  the 
sound  of  the  closing  door  until  she  was  ready  to 
cry  out  against  the  strain  and  the  suspense. 
However,  the  longest,  saddest  day  wears  to  its 
end ;  and  though  it  does  not  appear  likely  that 
a  loving  girl's  anxiety  about  a  coolness  in  her 
lover  should  teach  us  how  far  deeper,  even  than 
mother-love,  is  our  trust  in  God's  love,  yet  little 
Kitty's  behaviour  on  this  sorrowful  evening  did 
show  forth  this  sublime  fact. 

For  the  girl  left  undone  none  of  her  usual 
duties,  left  unsaid  none  of  the  pleasant  words 
she  knew  her  mother  expected  from  her;  she 
even  followed  her  —  as  she  always  did  when  the 
Squire  was  late  —  to  her  bedroom,  and  helped 
her  lay  away  her  laces  and  jewels  ere  she  bid 
her  a  last  "  good-night"  But  as  soon  as  she  had 


The  Lost  Ring  127 

closed  the  door  of  her  own  room,  she  felt  she 
might  give  herself  some  release.  If  she  did  not 
read  the  whole  of  the  Evening  Service,  God 
would  understand.  She  could  trust  His  love  to 
excuse,  to  pity,  to  release  her  from  all  ceremo- 
nies. She  knelt  down,  she  bowed  her  head,  and 
said  only  the  two  or  three  words  which  opened 
her  heart  and  let  the  rain  of  tears  wash  all  her 
anxieties  away. 

And  though  sorrow  may  endure  for  a  night, 
joy  comes  in  the  morning;  and  this  is  specially 
true  in  youth.  When  Kate  awoke,  the  sun  was 
shining,  and  the  care  and  ache  was  gone  from 
her  heart.  "  He  giveth  His  Beloved  sleep,"  and 
thus  some  angel  had  certainly  comforted  her, 
though  she  knew  it  not.  With  a  cheerful  heart 
she  dressed  and  went  into  the  breakfast-room, 
and  there  she  saw  her  father  standing  on  the 
hearthrug,  with  The  Times  open  in  his  hand.  He 
looked  at  her  over  its  pages  with  beaming  eyes, 
and  she  ran  to  him  and  took  the  paper  away, 
and  nestling  to  his  heart,  said,  "  she  would  have 
no  rival,  first  thing  in  the  morning." 

And  the  proud  father  stroked  her  hair,  and 
kissed  her  lips,  and  answered  her,  "  Rival  was  not 
born  yet,  and  never  would  be  born ;  and  that  he 
was  only  seeing  if  them  newspaper  fellows  had 
told  lies  about  Piers." 

"  Piers !  "  cried  Mrs.  Atheling,  entering  the 
room  at  the  moment,  "what  about  Piers?" 

"  Well,  Mother,  the  lad  had  his  say  last  night; 


128     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

but,  Dal  it !  Mr.  Brougham  went  at  the  Govern- 
ment and  the  Electors  as  if  they  were  all  of 
them  wearing  the  devil's  livery.  I  call  it  scan- 
dalous !  It  was  nothing  else.  He  let  on  to  be 
preaching  for  Reform,  but  he  was  just  preaching 
for  Henry  Brougham." 

"  What  was  Mr.  Brougham  talking  about, 
Father?" 

"  Mr.  Brougham  can  talk  about  nothing  but 
Reform,  Kitty,  the  right  of  every  man  to  vote 
as  seems  good  in  his  own  eyes.  He  said  peers 
and  landowners  influenced  and  prejudiced  votes 
in  a  way  that  was  outrageous  and  not  to  be 
borne,  and  a  lot  more  words  of  the  same  kind ; 
for  Henry  Brougham  would  lose  his  speech  if 
he  had  anything  pleasant  to  say.  I  was  going 
to  get  up  and  give  him  a  bit  of  my  mind,  when 
Piers  rose ;  and  the  cool  way  in  which  he  fixed 
his  eye-glass,  and  looked  Mr.  Brougham  up  and 
down,  and  straight  in  the  face,  set  us  all  by  the 
ears.  He  was  every  inch  of  him,  then  and  there, 
the  future  Duke  of  Richmoor;  and  he  told 
Brougham,  in  a  very  sarcastic  way,  that  his 
opinions  were  silly,  and  would  neither  bear  the 
test  of  reason  nor  of  candid  examination." 

"  But,  Father,  I  thought  Mr.  Brougham  was  the 
great  man  of  the  Commons,  and  held  in  much 
honour." 

"Well,  my  little  maid,  he  may  be;  but  I'll 
warrant  it  is  only  by  people  who  have  their  own 
reasons  for  worshipping  the  devil." 


The  Lost  Ring  129 

"  Come,  come,  John  !  If  I  was  thee,  I  would 
be  silent  until  I  could  be  just." 

"Not  thou,  Maude!  Right  or  wrong,  thou 
wouldst  say  thy  say.  I  think  I  ought  to  know 
thee  by  this  time." 

"Never  mind  me,  John.  We  want  to  hear 
what  Piers  said." 

"  Brougham's  words  had  come  rattling  off  in 
full  gallop.  Piers,  after  looking  at  him  a  minute, 
began  in  that  contemptuous  drawl  of  his,— 
you  Ve  heard  it  I  Ve  no  doubt,  — '  Mr.  Brougham 
affords  an  example  of  radical  opinions  degrading 
a  statesman  into  a  politician.  He  cannot  but 
know  that  it  is  the  positive,  visible  duty  of 
every  landowner  to  influence  and  prejudice 
votes.  It  is  the  business  and  the  function  of 
education  and  responsibility  to  enlighten  igno- 
rance, and  to  influence  the  misguided  and  the 
misled.  If  it  is  the  business  and  the  function  of 
the  clergy  to  influence  and  prejudice  people  in 
favour  of  a  good  life ;  if  it  is  the  business  and 
function  of  a  teacher  to  influence  and  prejudice 
scholars  in  favour  of  knowledge,  —  it  is  just  as 
certainly  the  business  and  function  of  the  land- 
owner to  influence  his  tenants  in  favour  of  law 
and  order,  and  to  prejudice  them  against  men 
who  would  shatter  to  pieces  the  noblest  political 
Constitution  in  the  world.'  " 

The  Squire  read  this  period  aloud  with  great 
emphasis,  and  added,  "  Well,  Maude,  you  never 
heard  such  a  tumult  as  followed.  Cries  of 
9 


130     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

'Here/  Here  T  and  'Order!  Order.''  filled  the 
House;  and  the  Speaker  had  work  enough  to 
make  silence.  Piers  stood  quite  still,  watching 
Brougham,  and  as  soon  as  all  was  quiet,  he  went 
on,  — 

" '  If  you  take  the  peers,  the  gentry,  the  schol- 
ars, the  men  of  enterprise  and  wealth,  from  our 
population,  what  kind  of  a  government  should 
we  get  from  the  remainder?  Would  they  be 
fit  to  select  and  elect?'  Then  there  was  an- 
other uproar,  and  Piers  sat  down,  and  O'Connell 
jumped  up.  He  put  his  witty  tongue  in  his 
laughing  cheek,  and,  buttoning  his  coat  round 
him,  held  up  his  right  hand.  And  the  Reform 
members  cheered,  and  the  Tory  members 
shrugged  their  shoulders,  and  waited  for  what 
he  would  say." 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  a  word  from  him" 
answered  Mrs.  Atheling.  "  Come  and  get  your 
coffee,  John.  A  cup  of  good  coffee  costs  a  deal 
now,  and  it 's  a  shame  to  let  it  get  cold  and  sloppy 
over  Dan  O'Connell's  blackguarding." 

"  Tell  us  what  he  said,  Father,"  urged  Kate, 
who  really  desired  to  know  more  about  Piers's 
efforts.  "  You  can  drink  your  coffee  to  his 
words.  I  don't  suppose  they  will  poison  it." 

"  I  would  n't  be  sure  of  that,"  said  Mrs. 
Atheling,  with  a  dubious  shake  of  her  head ; 
while  the  Squire  lifted  his  cup,  and  emptied  it 
at  a  draught. 

"What  did  he  say,  Father?  Did  he  attack 
Piers?" 


The  Lost  Ring  131 

"  To  be  sure  he  did.     He  took  the  word  '  Re- 
mainder,' and  said    Piers  had  called    the   great, 
substantial  working  men  of  England,  Scotland, 
and    Ireland   Remainders.     He   said   these    '  Re- 
mainders '  might  only  be    farmers,   and   bakers, 
and   builders,   and  traders;    but  they  were  the 
backbone   of  the    nation;    and   the    honourable 
gentleman   from    Richmoor    Palace    had    called 
them  '  Remainders.'     And  then  he  gave  Piers  a 
few  of  such  stinging,  abusive  names  as  he  always 
keeps  on  hand,  —  and    he    keeps  a  good  many 
kinds  of  them  on  hand,  —  and  Piers  was  like  a 
man  that  neither  heard  nor  saw  him.     He  looked 
clean  through  the  member  for  Kilkenny  as  if  he 
was  n't  there  at  all.     And  then  Mr.  Scarlett  got 
up,  and  asked  the  Speaker  if  such  unparliamen- 
tary conduct   was  to    be    permitted?     And  Mr. 
Dickson  called  upon  the  House  to  protect  itself 
from  the  browbeating,  bullying  ruffianism  of  the 
member  for  Kilkenny;  and  Dan  O'Connell  sat 
laughing,  with  his  hat  on  one  side  of  his  head,  till 
Dickson  sat  down ;  then  he  said,  he  '  considered 
Mr.  Dickson's  words  complimentary ;  '    and  the 
shouts    became    louder    and    louder,     and    the 
Speaker   had    hard  work  to  get  things  quieted 
down." 

"  Why,  John !  I  never  heard  tell  of  such 
carryings  on." 

"  Then,  Maude,  I  thought  /  would  say  a  word 
or  two ;  and  I  got  the  Speaker's  eye,  and  he  said 
peremptorily,  '  The  member  for  Asketh !  '  and  I 


132     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

rose  in  my  place  and  said  I  thought  the  honour- 
able member  for  Kilkenny  — 

"  John  !     I  would  n't  have  called  him  '  honour- 
able.' " 

"  I  know  thou  wouldst  not,  Maude.  Well,  I 
said  honourable,  and  I  went  on  to  say  that  Mr. 
O'Connell  had  mistaken  the  meaning  Lord 
Exham  attached  to  the  word  '  Remainder.'  I 
said  it  was  n't  a  disrespectful  word  at  all,  and 
that  there  were  plenty  of  '  remainders,'  we  all 
of  us  thought  a  good  deal  of;  but,  I  said,  I 
would  come  to  an  instance  which  every  man 
could  understand,  —  the  remainder  of  a  glass  of 
fine,  old  October  ale.  The  rich,  creamy,  bub- 
bling froth  might  stand  for  the  landowners ;  but 
it  was  part  of  the  whole ;  and  the  remainder  was 
all  the  better  for  the  froth,  and  the  more  froth, 
and  the  richer  the  froth,  the  better  the  ale 
below  it.  And  I  went  on  to  say  that  Lord 
Exham,  and  every  man  of  us,  knew  right  well, 
that  the  great  body  of  the  English  nation  was  n't 
made  up  of  knaves,  and  scoundrels,  and  fools, 
but  of  good  men  and  women.  And  then  our 
benches  cheered  me,  up  and  down,  till  I  felt  it 
was  a  good  thing  to  be  a  Representative  of  the 
Remainder,  and  I  said  so." 

Then  Mrs.  Atheling  and  Kitty  cheered  the 
Squire  more  than  a  little,  with  smiles,  and  kisses, 
and  proud  words ;  and  he  went  on  with  increased 
animation,  "  In  a  minute  O'Connell  was  on  his 
feet  again,  and  he  called  me  a  lot  of  names  I 


The  Lost  Ring  133 

need  n't  repeat  here ;  until  he  said, '  My  example 
of  a  glass  of  ale  was  exactly  what  anybody  might 
expect  from  such  a  John  Bull  as  the  member 
for  Asketh.'  And,  Maude  and  Kitty,  I  could  not 
stand  that.  The  House  was  shouting,  '  Order ! 
Order  ! '  and  I  cried,  '  Mr.  Speaker ! '  and  the 
Speaker  said,  '  Order,  the  member  for  Kilkenny 
is  speaking  !  '  '  But,  Mr.  Speaker/  I  said,  '  I  only 
want  to  say  to  the  member  for  Kilkenny  that  I 
would  rather  be  a  John  Bull,  than  a  bully.'  And 
that  was  the  end.  There  was  no  '  Order '  after  it. 
Our  side  cheered  and  roared,  and,  Maude,  what 
dost  thou  think?  —  the  one  to  cheer  loudest  was 
thy  son  Edgar.  He  must  have  got  in  by  the 
Speaker's  favour ;  but  there  he  was,  and  when  I 
came  through  the  lobby,  with  Piers  and  Lord  Al- 
thorp,  and  a  crowd  after  me,  he  was  standing  with 
that  young  fellow  I  threw  on  Atheling  Green; 
and  he  looked  at  me  so  pleased,  and  eager,  and 
happy,  that  I  thought  for  a  moment  he  was 
going  to  shake  hands ;  but  I  kept  my  hands  in 
my  pockets  —  yet  I  '11  say  this,  —  he  has  thy  fine 
eyes,  Maude,  —  I  most  felt  as  if  thou  wert  looking 
at  me." 

"  John  !  John !  How  couldst  thou  keep  thy 
hands  in  thy  pockets  ?  How  couldst  thou  do  such 
an  unfatherly  thing?  I'm  ashamed  of  thee !  I 
am." 

"  Give  me  a  slice  of  ham,  and  don't  ask  ques- 
tions. I  want  my  breakfast  now.  I  can't  live  on 
talk,  as  if  I  was  a  woman." 


134     I>  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Fortunately  at  this  moment  a  servant  entered 
with  the  morning's  mail.  He  gave  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing  a  letter,  and  Kate  two  letters;  and  then 
offered  the  large  salver  full  of  matter  to  the 
Squire.  He  looked  at  the  pile  with  indignation. 
"  Put  it  out  of  my  sight,  Dobson,"  he  said  angrily. 
"  Do  you  think  I  want  letters  and  papers  to 
my  breakfast?  I  'm  astonished  at  you  !  "  He  was 
breaking  his  egg-shell  impatiently  as  he  spoke, 
and  he  looked  up  with  affected  anger  at  his  com- 
panions. Kitty  met  his  glance  with  a  smile.  She 
could  afford  to  do  so,  for  both  her  letters  lay 
untouched  at  her  side.  She  tapped  the  upper 
one  and  said,  "It  is  from  Miss  Vyner,  Father; 
it  can  easily  wait." 

"  And  the  other,  Kitty?     Who  is  it  from?  " 
"  From  Piers,  I  don't  want  to  read  it  yet." 
"To  be  sure."     Then  he  looked  at  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing,  and  was  surprised.     Her  face  was  really  shin- 
ing with   pleasure,   her   eyes  misty  with   happy 
tears.     She  held  her  letter  with  a  certain  pride 
and  tenderness  that  her  whole  attitude  also  ex- 
pressed ;  and  the  Squire  had  an  instant  premoni- 
tion as  to  the  writer  of  it. 

"  Well,  Maude,"  he  said,  "  I  would  drink  my 
coffee,  if  I  was  thee.  A  cup  of  coffee  costs  a 
deal  now ;  and  it 's  a  shame  to  let  it  get  cold  and 
sloppy  over  a  bit  of  a  letter  —  nobody  knows 
who  from." 

"  It  is  from  Edgar,"  said  Mrs.  Atheling,  far 
too  proud  and  pleased  to  keep  her  happiness  to 


The  Lost  Ring  135 

herself.  "  And,  John,  I  am  going  to  have  a  little 
lunch-party  to-day  at  two  o'clock;  and  I  do 
wish  thou  wouldst  make  it  in  thy  way  to  be 
present." 

"  I  won't.  And  I  would  like  to  know  who  is 
coming  here.  I  won't  have  all  kinds  and  sorts 
sitting  at  my  board,  and  eating  my  bread  and 
salt  —  and  I  never  heard  tell  of  a  good  wife  ask- 
ing people  to  do  that  without  even  mentioning 
their  names  to  her  husband  —  and  —  " 

"  I  am  quite  ready  to  name  everybody  I  ask  to 
thy  board,  John.  There  will  be  thy  own  son 
Edgar  Atheling,  and  Mr.  Cecil  North,  and  thy 
wife  Maude  Atheling,  and  thy  daughter  Kitty. 
Maybe,  also,  Lord  Exham  and  Miss  Vyner.  Kitty 
says  she  has  a  letter  from  her." 

"  I  told  thee  once  and  for  all,  I  had  forbid 
Edgar  Atheling  to  come  to  my  house  again  until 
I  asked  him  to  do  so." 

"  This  is  n't  thy  house,  John.  It  is  only  a  rented 
roof.  Thou  mayst  be  sure  Edgar  will  never 
come  near  Atheling  till  God  visits  thee  and  gives 
thee  a  heart  like  His  own  to  love  thy  son.  Thou 
hast  never  told  Edgar  to  keep  away  from  the  Vyner 
mansion,  and  thou  hadst  better  never  try  to  do 
so ;  for  I  tell  thee  plainly  if  thou  dost  —  " 

"  Keep  threats  behind  thy  teeth,  Maude.  It 
is  n't  like  thee,  and  I  won't  be  threatened  either 
by  man  or  woman.  If  thou  thinkest  it  right  to 
set  Edgar  before  me,  and  to  teach  him  not  to 
'Honour  his  father'  —  " 


136     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  Did  n't  he  '  honour '  thee  last  night !  Was  n't 
he  proud  of  thee?  And  he  wanted  to  tell  thee 
so,  if  thou  wouldst  have  let  him.  Poor  Edgar !  " 
And  Edgar's  mother  covered  her  face,  and  began 
to  cry  softly  to  herself. 

"  Nay,  Maude,  if  thou  takest  to  crying  I  must 
run  away.  It  is  n't  fair  at  all.  What  can  a  man 
say  to  tears?  I  wish  I  could  have  a  bit  of  break- 
fast in  peace ;  I  do  that !  "  —  and  he  pushed  his 
chair  away  in  a  little  passion,  and  lifted  his  mail, 
and  was  going  noisily  out  of  the  room,  when  he 
found  Kitty's  arms  round  his  neck.  Then  he  said 
peevishly,  "  Thou  art  spilling  my  letters,  Kitty. 
Let  me  alone,  dearie !  Thou  never  hast  a  word 
to  say  on  thy  father's  side.  It 's  too  bad  !  " 

"  I  am  all  for  you,  father,  —  you  and  you 
first  of  all.  There  is  nobody  like  you ;  nobody 
before  you ;  nobody  that  can  ever  take  your 
place."  Then  she  kissed  him,  and  whispered 
some  of  those  loving,  senseless  little  words  that 
go  right  to  the  heart,  if  Love  sends  them  there. 
And  the  Squire  was  comforted  by  them,  and 
whispered  back  to  her,  "  God  love  thee,  my  little 
maid !  I  '11  do  anything  I  can  to  give  thee 
pleasure." 

"Then  just  think  about  Edgar  as  you  saw 
him  last  night,  think  of  him  with  mother's  eyes 
watching  you,  listening  to  you,  full  of  pride  and 
loving  you  so  much — oh,  yes,  Father!  loving 
you  so  much." 

"  Well,  well,  —  let  me  go  now,  Kitty.     I  have 


The  Lost  Ring  137 

all  these  bothering  letters  and  papers  to  look 
at ;  they  are  enough  to  make  any  man  cross." 

"  Let  me  help  you." 

"  Go  to  thy  mother.  Listen,  Kitty,"  and  he 
spoke  very  low,  "  tell  her,  thou  art  sure  and 
certain  thy  father  does  not  object  to  her  seeing 
her  son,  if  it  makes  her  happy  —  thou  knowest 
my  bark  is  a  deal  worse  than  my  bite  —  say  — 
thou  believest  I  would  like  to  see  Edgar  myself — 
nay,  thou  needest  not  say  that  —  but  say  a  few 
words  just  to  please  her;  thou  knowest  what  they 
should  be  better  than  I  do,"  — then,  with  a  rather 
gruff  "  good-morning,"  he  went  out  of  the  room ; 
and  Kitty  turned  to  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Atheling  was  smiling,  though  there  were 
indeed  some  remaining  evidences  of  tears.  "He 
went  without  bidding  me  '  good-morning,'  Kitty. 
What  did  he  say?  Is  he  very  angry?  " 

"  Not  at  all  angry.  All  put  on,  Mother.  He 
loves  Edgar  quite  as  much  as  you  do." 

"  He  can't  do  that,  Kitty.  There  is  nothing 
like  a  mother's  love." 

"  Except  a  father's  love.  Don't  you  remem- 
ber, that  God  takes  a  father's  love  to  express 
His  own  great  care  for  us?  And  when  the  Prod- 
igal Son  came  home,  Christ  makes  his  father,  not 
his  mother,  go  to  meet  him." 

"  That  was  because  Christ  knew  children  were 
sure  and  certain  of  their  mother's  love  and  for- 
giveness. He  was  n't  so  sure  of  the  fathers.  So 
he  gave  the  lesson  to  them;  he  knew  that 


138     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

mothers  did  not  need  it.  Mothers  are  always 
ready  to  forgive,  Kitty ;  but  there  is  nothing  to 
forgive  in  Edgar." 

"Is  he  really  coming  to-day?" 

"  Listen  to  what  he  says,  Kitty.  '  Darling 
Mother,  I  cannot  live  another  day  without  see- 
ing you.  Let  me  come  to-morrow  at  two  o'clock, 
and  put  my  arms  round  you,  and  kiss  you,  and 
talk  to  you  for  an  hour.  Ask  father  to  let  me 
come.  London  is  not  Atheling.  If  he  counts 
his  passionate  words  as  forever  binding  between 
him  and  me,  surely  they  are  not  binding  between 
you  and  me.  Let  me  see  you  anyway,  Mother. 
Sweet,  dear  Mother !  When  father  forgives  the 
rest,  he  will  forgive  this  also.  Your  loving  son, 
Edgar.'  Now,  Kitty,  if  Edgar  was  your  son,  what 
would  you  say?  " 

"  I  would  say,  Come  at  once,  Edgar,  and 
dearly  welcome !  " 

"  To  be  sure  you  would.  So  shall  I.  What  is 
Miss  Vyner  writing  about?  " 

Then  Kitty  lifted  the  squarely  folded  letter 
with  its  great  splash  of  white  wax  stamped  with 
the  Vyner  crest,  and  after  a  rapid  glance  at  its 
contents  said,  "  There  is  likely  to  be  a  great 
House  to-night ;  and  the  Duchess  has  three  seats 
in  the  Ladies  Gallery.  One  is  for  Annabel,  the 
other  for  me ;  and  she  asks  you  to  take  her  place. 
Do  go,  Mother." 

"  I  '11  think  about  it." 

"  Don't  say  that." 


The  Lost  Ring  139 

"  It  is  all  I  will  say  just  yet.  Did  you  have  a 
letter  from  Piers  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  knew  you  would.  Go  and  read  it,  and  tell 
Dobson  to  send  the  cook  to  me.  We  want  the 
best  lunch  that  can  be  made  ;  and  put  on  a  pretty 
dress,  Kitty.  Edgar  must  feel  that  nothing  is  too 
good  for  him." 

In  accordance  with  this  intent,  Mrs.  Atheling 
took  particular  pains  with  her  own  dress;  and 
Kitty  thought  she  had  never  seen  her  mother  so 
handsome.  Soft  brown  satin,  and  gold  orna- 
ments, and  the  bit  of  lace  on  her  head  set  off 
her  large,  blonde,  stately  beauty  to  perfection ; 
while  the  look  of  love  and  anxiety,  as  the  clock 
moved  on  to  two,  gave  to  her  countenance  that 
"  something  more  "  without  which  beauty  is  only 
flesh  and  blood. 

She  had  said  to  herself  that  Edgar  might  be 
detained,  that  he  might  not  be  able  to  keep  his 
time,  and  that  she  would  not  feel  disappointed 
if  he  was  a  bit  behind  two  o'clock.  But  fully  ten 
minutes  before  the  hour,  she  heard  his  quick, 
firm  knock ;  and  as  she  stood  trembling  with  joy 
in  the  middle  of  the  room,  he  took  her  in  his 
arms,  and,  between  laughing  and  crying,  they 
knew  not,  either  of  them,  what  they  said.  And 
then  Kitty  ran  into  the  room,  all  a  flutter  with 
pale-blue  ribbons,  and  it  was  a  good  five 
minutes  before  the  two  women  found  time  to 
see,  and  to  speak  to  Cecil  North,  who  stood 


140     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

watching  the   scene   with   his   kind  heart  in  his 
face. 

Evidently  the  meeting  had  bespoke  a  fortunate 
hour.  The  weather,  though  it  was  November, 
was  sunny;  the  lunch  was  perfection,  and  they 
were  in  the  midst  of  the  merriest  possible  meal 
when  Annabel  Vyner  and  Piers  Exham  joined 
them.  Annabel  had  expected  nothing  better 
from  this  visit  than  an  opportunity  to  show  off 
her  familiar  relations  with  Lord  Exham,  and 
torment  Kitty,  as  far  as  she  thought  it  prudent  to 
do  so ;  but  Fate  had  prepared  motives  more  per- 
sonal and  delightful  for  her,  —  two  handsome 
young  men,  whom  she  at  once  determined  to 
conquer.  Cecil  North  made  no  resistance ;  he 
went  over  heart  and  head  in  love  with  her.  Her 
splendid  vitality,  her  manner,  —  so  demanding 
and  so  caressing,  —  her  daring  dress,  and  daz- 
zling jewelry,  her  altogether  unconventional  air 
charmed  and  vanquished  him,  and  he  devoted 
himself  to  pleasing  her. 

During  the  lunch  hour  the  conversation  was 
general,  and  very  animated.  Annabel  excelled 
herself  in  her  peculiar  way  of  saying  things  which 
appeared  singularly  brilliant,  but  which  really 
derived  all  their  point  from  her  looks,  and  shrugs, 
and  flashing  movements.  The  good  mother  was 
in  an  earthly  heaven,  watching,  and  listening,  and 
attending  to  every  one's  wants,  actual  and  pos- 
sible. Laughter  and  repartee  and  merry  jests 
mingled  with  bits  of  social  and  parliamentary 


The  Lost  Ring  141 

gossip,  though  politics  were  instinctively  avoided. 
Piers  knew  well  the  opinions  of  the  two  men  with 
whom  he  was  sitting;  and  he  was  quite  capable 
of  respecting  them.  Besides,  he  had  an  old 
friendship  for  Edgar  Atheling;  and  he  loved  his 
sister,  and  was  well  aware  that  she  had  much 
sympathy  with  her  brother's  views.  So  all  An- 
nabel's attempts  to  make  a  division  were  futile ; 
no  one  took  up  the  little  challenges  she  flung  into 
their  midst,  and  the  parliamentary  talk  drifted  no 
nearer  dangerous  ground  than  the  Ladies  Gallery. 
Piers  knew  of  the  invitation  given  to  the  Athelings, 
and  he  proposed  to  meet  the  ladies  in  the  courtyard 
near  the  entrance  to  the  exclusive  precinct. 

"Too  exclusive  by  far,"  said  Annabel.  "Why 
do  English  ladies  submit  to  that  grating?  It  is  a 
relic  of  the  barbarous  ages.  I  intend  to  move  in 
the  matter.  Let  us  get  up  a  petition,  or  an  act, 
or  an  agitation  of  some  kind  for  its  removal.  I 
think  we  should  succeed.  What  do  you  say, 
Lord  Exham?" 

"  I  think  you  would  not  succeed,"  answered 
Piers.  "  I  have  heard  the  Duke  say  that  the 
proposition  is  frequently  made  in  the  House ; 
that  it  is  always  enthusiastically  cheered ;  but 
that  every  time  the  question  comes  practically 
up,  there  is  a  dexterous  count  out." 

"Well,  then,  I  will  propose  that  the  front 
Treasury  Bench  be  taken  away,  and  twenty-four 
ladies'  seats  put  in  its  place.  Do  you  see,  Mr. 
North,  what  I  intend  by  that?" 


142     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  I  am  sure  it  is  something  wise  and  good,  Miss 
Vyner." 

"  My  idea  is,  that  twenty-four  ladies  should  sit 
there  as  representatives  of  the  women  of  England. 
Twenty-four  bishops  in  lovely  lawn  sit  as  repre- 
sentatives of  the  clergy  of  England ;  why  should 
not  English  women  have  their  representation?  I 
hope  while  Reformers  are  correcting  the  abuses 
of  Representation,  they  will  consider  this  abuse. 
Mr.  Atheling,  what  do  you  say?" 

"  I  am  at  your  service,  Miss  Vyner." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  just  at  present  you  are  hand  and 
heart  in  the  service  of  Mrs.  Atheling.  I  must 
turn  to  Mr.  North." 

Then  Mrs.  Atheling  perceived  that  in  her  inter- 
esting conversation  with  Edgar,  she  was  keeping 
her  guests  at  table ;  and  she  rose  with  an  apol- 
ogy, and  led  the  way  into  the  parlour.  There 
was  a  large  conservatory  opening  out  of  this 
room,  and  Kate  and  Piers,  on  some  pretext  of 
rosebuds,  went  into  it. 

"  My  dear  Kate,  I  have  been  so  unhappy !  " 
he  said,  taking  her  hand. 

"But  why,  Piers?" 

"  We  parted  so  strangely  yesterday.  I  do  not 
know  how  it  happened." 

"We  were  both  tired,  I  think.  I  was  as  much 
in  fault  as  you.  Is  not  this  an  exquisite  flower?  " 
That  was  the  end  of  the  trouble.  He  drew  her 
to  his  side,  and  kissed  the  hand  that  touched  the 
flower;  and  so  all  explanations  were  over;  and 


The  Lost  Ring  143 

they  took  up  their  love-story  where  the  shadow 
of  yesterday  had  broken  it  off.  And  as  their 
hands  wandered  among  the  shrubs,  it  was  natural 
for  Piers  to  notice  the  ring  on  Kate's  finger.  "  It 
is  a  very  singular  jewel,"  he  said ;  "  I  never  saw 
one  like  it." 

"  It  is  my  mother's,  "  answered  Kate.  "  She 
told  me  this  morning  it  was  her  betrothal  ring 
and  that  father  bought  it  in  Venice." 

"  Kate  dear,  I  wish  to  get  you  a  ring  just  like 
it.  Let  us  ask  Mrs.  Atheling  if  I  may  show  it  to 
my  jeweller,  and  have  one  made  for  you." 

"  I  am  sure  mother  will  be  willing,"  and  she 
slipped  the  shining  circle  from  her  finger,  and 
gave  it  to  Piers ;  and  he  whispered  fondly,  as  he 
placed  it  on  his  own  hand,  "  Will  you  take  it  from 
me,  Kate,  as  a  love  gage  ?  —  never  to  leave  your 
finger  until  I  put  the  wife's  gold  ring  above  it?  " 

And  what  she  said  need  not  be  told.  Many 
happy  words  grew  from  her  answer;  and  they 
forgot  the  rosebuds  they  had  come  to  gather,  and 
the  company  they  had  left,  and  the  flight  of  time, 
until  Edgar  came  into  the  conservatory  to  bid  his 
sister  "  good-bye."  There  had  been  a  slight  for- 
mality between  Piers  and  Edgar  at  their  first 
meeting ;  but  with  Kate  standing  between  them, 
all  the  good  days  on  the  Yorkshire  hills  and 
moors  came  into  their  memories,  and  they 
clasped  hands  with  their  old  boyish  fervour,  and 
it  was  "  Piers "  and  "  Edgar "  again.  So  the 
parting  was  the  real  meeting;  and  they  went 


144     If  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

back  to  the  parlour  in  an  unmistakable  enthu- 
siasm of  good  fellowship. 

Annabel  was  then  quite  ready  to  leave,  and  the 
question  of  the  Ladies  Gallery  came  up  for  set- 
tlement. Mrs.  Atheling  declared  she  was  too 
weary  to  go  out;  and  Kate  preferred  her  own 
happy  thoughts  to  the  tumult  of  a  political  quar- 
rel. Annabel  was  equally  indifferent.  She  had 
discovered  that  Mr.  North  was  a  son  of  the  Earl 
of  Westover,  and  might  with  propriety  be  asked 
to  the  Richmoor  opera-box,  that  there  was  even 
an  acquaintance  strong  enough  between  the 
families  to  enable  her  new  lover  to  pay  his 
respects  to  the  Duchess  in  the  interludes,  and,  in 
fact,  an  understanding  to  that  effect  had  been 
made  for  that  very  night,  if  the  offer  of  the  seats 
in  the  Ladies  Gallery  was  not  accepted.  So 
their  refusal  caused  no  regret ;  for  when  politics 
come  in  competition  with  youth  and  love,  they 
have  scarcely  a  hearing.  But  during  the  slight 
discussion,  Piers  found  time  to  speak  to  Mrs. 
Atheling  about  the  ring ;  and  the  direction  of 
three  pair  of  eyes  to  the  trinket  caught  Anna- 
bel's attention.  Her  face  flamed  when  she  saw 
that  it  had  passed  from  Kate's  hand  to  the  hand 
of  Exham  ;  and  for  the  first  time,  she  had  a  feel- 
ing of  active  dislike  against  Kate.  Her  sweet, 
calm,  innocent  beauty,  her  happy  eyes  and  in- 
genuous girlish  expression,  offended  her,  and  set 
all  the  worst  forces  of  her  soul  in  revolt. 

She  did  not  dare  to  trust  herself  with    Piers. 


The  Lost  Ring  145 

In  her  present  mood,  she  knew  she  would  be 
sure  to  say  something  that  would  hamper  her 
future  actions.  She  declared  she  would  only 
accept  Mr.  North's  escort  to  Richmoor  House ; 
for  she  was  sure  the  Duke  was  expecting  Piers  to 
be  in  his  place  in  the  Commons  when  the  vote 
was  taken. 

Piers  had  a  similar  conviction,  and  he  looked 
at  his  watch  almost  guiltily,  and  went  hurriedly 
away.  Then  the  little  party  was  soon  dispersed  ; 
but  Mrs.  Atheling  and  Kate  were  both  far  too 
happy  to  need  outside  aids.  They  talked  of 
Edgar  and  Cecil  North,  and  Annabel's  witch- 
eries, and  Piers's  great  and  good  qualities,  and  the 
promised  ring,  and  the  excellent  lunch,  and  the 
general  success  of  the  impromptu  little  feast. 
Everything  had  been  pleasant,  and  the  Squire's 
absence  was  not  thought  worth  worrying  about. 

"  He  will  come  round,  bit  by  bit,"  said  the 
happy  mother.  "  I  know  John  Atheling.  The 
first  thing  Edgar  does  to  please  him,  will  put  all 
straight ;  and  Edgar  is  on  the  very  road  to  please 
him  most  of  all." 

"  What  road  is  that,  Mother?  " 

"  Nay,  I  can't  tell  you,  Kitty  ;  for  just  yet  it  is 
a  secret  between  Edgar  and  me.  He  was  glad  to 
meet  Piers  again ;  and,  if  I  am  any  judge,  they 
will  be  better  friends  than  ever  before." 

Thus  the  two  women  talked  the  evening  away, 
and  were  by  no  means  sorry  to  be  at  their  own 
fireside.  "  We  could  have  done  no  good  by 


10 


146     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

going  to  the  House,"  said  Kate.  "  If  we  were 
men,  it  would  be  different.  They  like  it  Father 
says  the  House  is  the  best  club  in  London." 

"It  gives  men  a  lot  of  excuses,"  said  Mrs. 
Atheling,  with  a  sigh.  "  I  dare  say  your  father 
won't  get  home  till  late.  You  had  better  go  to 
bed,  Kitty." 

"  Perhaps  Piers  may  come  with  him." 

"  I  don't  think  he  will.  He  looked  tired  when 
he  left  here ;  he  will  be  worse  tired  when  he  gets 
away  from  the  Commons.  He  said  he  was  going 
to  speak  again,  if  he  got  the  opportunity,  —  that 
is,  if  he  could  find  anything  to  contradict  in  Mr. 
Brougham's  speech.  Piers  likes  saying,  No,  sir!' 
his  spurs  are  always  in  fighting  trim.  Go  to  bed, 
Kitty.  Piers  won't  be  back  to-night,  and  I  can 
say  to  father  whatever  I  think  proper." 

Mrs.  Atheling  judged  correctly.  Piers  sat  a 
long  time  before  his  opportunity  came,  and  then 
he  did  not  get  the  best  of  it.  Brougham's  fol- 
lowers overflowed  the  Opposition  benches,  the 
Government  side,  and  the  gangway,  and  Piers 
exhausted  himself  vainly  in  an  endeavour  to  get 
a  hearing.  It  was  late  when  he  returned  to  Rich- 
moor  House,  but  the  Duke  was  still  absent,  and 
the  Duchess  and  Annabel  at  the  opera.  He 
went  to  the  Duke's  private  parlour,  for  there 
were  some  things  he  felt  he  must  discuss  before 
another  day's  sitting;  and  the  warmth  and  still- 
ness, added  to  his  own  mental  and  physical 
weariness,  soon  overcame  all  the  resistance  he 


The  Lost  Ring  147 

could  make.  The  couch  on  which  he  had 
thrown  himself  was  also  a  drowsy  place;  it 
seemed  to  sink  softly  down,  and  down,  until 
Piers  was  far  below  the  tide  of  thought,  or  even 
dreams. 

It  was  then  that  Annabel  returned.  She  came 
slowly  and  rather  thoughtfully  along  the  silent 
corridor.  She  had  exhausted  for  the  time  being 
her  fine  spirits,  her  wit,  almost  her  good  looks. 
She  hoped  she  would  not  meet  Piers,  and  was 
glad  in  passing  the  door  of  his  apartments  to 
see  no  man  in  attendance,  nor  any  sign  of  wake- 
ful life.  A  little  further  on  she  noticed  a  band 
of  light  from  the  Duke's  private  parlour;  the 
door  was  a  trifle  open,  left  purposely  so  by  Piers 
in  order  that  his  father  might  not  be  tempted  to 
pass  it.  Tired  as  she  was,  she  could  not  resist 
the  opportunity  it  offered.  She  liked  to  show 
herself  in  her  fineries  to  her  guardian,  for  he 
always  had  a  compliment  for  her  beauty;  and 
although  she  had  listened  for  hours  to  compli- 
ments her  vanity  was  still  unsatiated.  With  a 
coquettish  smile  she  pushed  wider  the  door  and 
saw  Lord  Exham.  There  could  be  no  doubt  of 
his  profound  insensibility ;  his  face,  his  attitude, 
his  breathing,  all  expressed  the  deep  sleep  of  a 
thoroughly-exhausted  man. 

For  one  moment  she  looked  at  him  curiously, 
then,  at  the  instigation  of  the  Evil  One,  her  eyes 
saw  the  ring  upon  his  hand,  and  her  heart  in- 
stantly desired  it;  for  what  reason  she  did  not 


148     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

ask.  At  the  moment  she  perhaps  had  no  reason, 
except  the  wicked  hope  that  its  loss  might  make 
trouble  between  Kitty  and  her  lover.  With  the 
swift,  noiseless  step  that  Nature  gives  to  women 
who  have  the  treachery  and  cruelty  of  the  feline 
family,  she  reached  Piers's  side.  But  rapid  as  her 
movement  had  been,  her  thought  had  been  more 
rapid.  "  If  I  am  caught,  I  will  say  I  won  a  pair 
of  gloves,  and  took  the  ring  as  the  gage  of  my 
victory." 

She  stooped  to  the  dropped  hand,  but  never 
touched  it.  The  ring  was  large,  and  it  was  only 
necessary  for  her  to  place  her  finger  and  thumb 
on  each  side  of  it.  It  slipped  off  without  press- 
ing against  the  flesh,  and  in  a  moment  it  was  in 
her  palm.  She  waited  to  see  if  the  movement 
had  been  felt.  There  was  no  evidence  of  it,  and 
she  passed  rapidly  out  of  the  room.  Outside  the 
door,  she  again  waited  for  a  movement,  but  none 
came,  and  she  walked  leisurely,  and  with  a  cer- 
tain air  of  weariness,  to  her  own  apartments. 
Once  there  all  was  safe;  she  dropped  it  into 
the  receptacle  in  which  she  kept  the  key  of  her 
jewel-case,  and  went  smiling  to  bed. 

Not  ten  minutes  after  her  theft  the  Duke  en- 
tered the  room.  He  did  not  scruple  to  awaken 
his  son,  and  to  discuss  with  him  the  tactics  of  a 
warfare  which  was  every  day  becoming  more 
bitter  and  violent.  Piers  was  full  of  interest,  and 
eager  to  take  his  part  in  the  fray.  Suddenly  he 
became  aware  of  his  loss.  Then  he  forgot  every 


The  Lost  Ring  149 

other  thing.  He  insisted,  then  and  there,  on  call- 
ing his  valet  and  searching  every  inch  of  carpet 
in  the  room.  The  Duke  was  disgusted  with  this 
radical  change  of  interest.  He  went  pettishly 
away  in  the  middle  of  the  search,  saying,  — 

"  The  Reformers  might  well  carry  all  before 
them,  when  peers  who  had  everything  to  lose 
or  gain  thought  more  of  a  lost  ring  than  a  lost 
cause." 

And  Piers  could  not  answer  a  word.  He  was 
confounded  by  the  circumstance.  That  the  ring 
was  on  his  hand  when  he  entered  the  room  was 
certain.  He  searched  all  his  pockets  with  frantic 
fear,  his  purse,  the  couch  on  which  he  had  slept. 
There  was  no  part  of  the  room  not  examined, 
no  piece  of  furniture  that  was  not  moved;  and 
the  day  began  to  dawn  when  the  useless  search 
was  over.  He  went  to  his  room,  sleepless  and 
troubled  beyond  belief.  Government  might  be 
defeated,  Ministers  might  resign,  Reform  might 
spell  Revolution,  the  estates  and  titles  of  nobles 
might  be  in  jeopardy,  —  but  Kitty's  ring  was  lost, 
and  that  was  the  first,  and  the  last,  and  the  only 
thought  Piers  Exham  could  entertain. 


150  I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 


CHAPTER  EIGHTH 

WILL  SHE  CHOOSE  EVIL  OR  GOOD? 

ANNABEL  had  a  very  good  night.  Her  con- 
science was  an  indulgent  one,  and  she  easily 
satisfied  its  complaining.  "  It  was  after  all  only 
a  joke,"  she  said.  "  In  the  morning  I  can  restore 
the  ring.  The  Duke  will  have  a  good  laugh  at 
his  son's  discomfiture,  and  will  praise  my  clever- 
ness. The  Duchess  will  either  knit  her  brows,  or 
else  take  it  merrily ;  and  Piers  will  owe  me  a  for- 
feit, and  that  will  be  the  end  of  the  affair.  What 
is  there  to  make  a  fuss  over?"  Annabel's  con- 
science thought,  in  such  case,  there  was  nothing 
to  fuss  about ;  and  it  let  her  sleep  comfortably  on 
the  prevaricating  promise. 

She  considered  the  matter  over  as  she  was 
dressing.  She  had  slept  well,  was  refreshed 
and  full  of  life,  and  therefore  full  of  selfish 
wilfulness :  — 

"  I  will  restore  the  ring  to  Piers."  She  said 
this  to  please  one  side  of  her  nature. 

"  I  will  not  restore  the  ring."  She  said  this  to 
please  the  other  side.  "  As  a  thing  of  worth,  it  is 
by  no  means  costly.  I  will  give  Kate  Atheling  a 


Evil  or  Good?  151 

ring  of  twice  its  value.  As  a  thing  of  power  it  is 
mine,  the  spoil  of  my  will  and  my  skill ;  and  I 
will  not  part  with  it."  Still  she  kept  the  first  de- 
cision in  reserve;  she  promised  herself  to  be 
influenced  by  the  circumstances  which  the  affair 
induced. 

But  the  way  out  of  temptation  is  always  very 
difficult,  and  circumstances  are  rarely  favourable 
to  it.  They  were  not  in  this  case.  Before  Anna- 
bel was  dressed  she  received  a  message  that 
overthrew  all  her  intentions.  The  Duchess  was 
going  to  breakfast  in  her  own  parlour,  and  she 
desired  Annabel's  company  at  the  meal.  The 
desires  of  the  Duchess  were  commands,  and  the 
young  lady  reluctantly  obeyed  them;  for  she 
anticipated  the  reproof  that  came,  as  soon  as  they 
were  alone,  regarding  her  attitude  towards  Cecil 
North. 

"  It  will  not  do,  Annabel,"  said  the  Duchess, 
severely.  "  The  Norths  are  a  fine  family,  but 
poor,  even  in  the  elder  branches.  This  young 
man  can  look  forward  to  nothing  better  than 
some  diplomatic  or  military  appointment,  and 
that  in  an  Indian  Presidency." 

"  What  could  be  better?  "  asked  Annabel,  with 
an  affectation  of  delight.  "  An  Indian  Court  is 
a  court.  It  has  the  splendour,  the  ceremony, 
the  very  air  of  royalty." 

"  But  with  your  fortune  — " 

"  I  assure  you,  Duchess,  any  man  who  marries 
me  will  need  all  my  fortune.  He  will  in  fact 


152    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

deserve  it.  You  know  that  I  am  not  amiable, 
and  that  I  am  extravagant  and  luxurious." 

"  But  you  may  avoid  such  a  foolish,  unwomanly 
thing  as  flirtation,  even  if  you  are  not  amiable. 
It  seems  to  me  the  world  has  forgotten  how  to  be 
amiable.  This  morning,  the  Duke  is  touchy  and 
disagreeable  ;  and  Piers  has  not  come  to  ask  after 
my  health,  though  it  is  his  usual  custom  when  I 
remain  in  my  room.  He  angered  the  Duke  also 
last  night." 

"Did  you  see  him  last  night?"  asked  Anna- 
bel, with  an  air  of  indifference. 

"The  Duke  did.  Piers  seems  to  have  behaved 
in  an  absurd  way  about  a  ring  he  has  lost.  The 
Duke  says,  he  turned  his  room  topsy-turvy,  and 
went  on  as  if  he  had  lost  his  whole  estate." 

"  Was  it  the  ring  with  the  ducal  arms  that  he 
always  wears  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed !  Only  a  simple  band  of  sap- 
phires, or  some  other  stone.  The  Duke  thinks  it 
must  have  been  the  gift  of  some  woman.  Were 
you  the  donor,  Annabel?" 

"  I !  I  should  think  not !  I  do  not  give  rings 
away.  I  prefer  to  receive  them.  He  wore  no 
sapphire  band  yesterday  when  he  and  I  went  to 
the  Athelings  —  "  and  she  looked  the  rest  of  the 
query,  over  her  coffee-cup,  straight  into  the  eyes 
of  the  Duchess. 

"  What  is  it  you  mean  to  ask,  Annabel  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  that  Miss  Atheling  - 

"  Miss  Atheling !    That  girl !    What  an  absurd 


Evil  or  Good?  153 

idea!  Why  should  she  give  Lord  Exham  a 
ring?" 

"  Why  !  There  are  so  many  '  whys '  that  no- 
body can  answer."  And  with  this  remark,  Anna- 
bel felt  that  her  opportunity  for  confession  had 
quite  lapsed.  For  if  the  Duchess  had  thought  it 
right  to  reprove  her  for  such  freedom  as  she  had 
shown  towards  Cecil  North,  what  would  she  say 
about  an  act  so  daring,  so  really  improper  in  a 
social  sense,  as  the  removal  of  a  ring  from  her 
son's  hand?  Annabel  had  no  mind  to  bring  on 
herself  the  disagreeable  looks  and  words  she 
merited.  She  gave  the  conversation  the  political 
turn  that  answered  all  purposes,  by  asking  the 
Duchess  if  she  was  not  afraid  Piers's  principles 
might  be  influenced  by  his  friendship  with  young 
Atheling.  "  They  were  David  and  Jonathan  yes- 
terday," she  said ;  "  and  as  for  Cecil  North,  he  is 
a  Radical  of  the  first  water." 

"  Lord  Exham  is  not  so  easily  persuaded," 
answered  the  Duchess,  loftily.  "  He  could  as 
readily  change  his  nose  as  his  principles.  But  I 
am  seriously  annoyed  at  this  intercourse  with  a 
family  distinctly  out  of  our  own  caste.  The 
Duke  has  been  very  foolish  to  encourage  it." 

"  You  have  also  encouraged  Miss  Atheling." 

"  I  have  been  too  good-natured.  I  admit  that. 
But  as  I  have  promised  to  present  her,  I  must 
honourably  keep  my  word  ;  that  is,  if  any  oppor- 
tunity offers.  It  now  appears  as  if  there  would 
be  no  court  functions.  The  King  declined  the 


154    I»  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Lord  Mayor's  feast,  —  a  most  unprecedented 
thing,  —  and  it  is  said  the  Queen  is  averse  to 
receive  while  the  Reform  agitation  continues. 
When  it  will  end,  nobody  knows." 

"  It  will  end  when  it  succeeds,  not  before,"  said 
Annabel.  "  I  am  only  a  woman,  but  I  see  that 
conclusion  very  clearly."  It  gave  her  pleasure 
to  make  this  statement.  It  was  her  way  of  re- 
turning to  the  Duchess  the  disagreeable  words 
she  had  been  obliged  to  take  from  her;  and  she 
was  not  at  all  dismayed  by  the  look  of  anger  she 
provoked. 

"  I  am  astonished  at  you,  Annabel.  Are  you 
also  in  danger  of  changing  your  opinions?  " 

"  I  am  astonished  at  myself,  Duchess.  My 
opinions  are  movable;  but  I  have  not  yet 
changed  them.  Truth,  however,  belongs  to  all 
sides,  and  I  cannot  avoid  seeing  things  as  they 
are." 

"  That  is,  as  young  Atheling  and  Cecil  North 
show  them  to  you." 

"  Lord  Exham  has  still  more  frequent  oppor- 
tunities of  showing  me  the  course  of  events.  I 
have  '  influences '  on  both  sides,  you  see,  Duch- 
ess ;  but,  after  all,  I  form  my  own  opinions." 

"  Reform  will  never  be  accomplished.  The 
people  must  follow  the  nobles,  as  surely  as  the 
thread  follows  the  needle." 

"  I  have  ceased  to  prophesy.  Anything  can 
happen  in  a  long  enough  time ;  and  I  often  heard 
my  father  say  that,  '  They  who  care  and  dare 


Evil  or  Good?  155 

may  do  as  they  like.'     I  think  the  Reform  party 
both  'care'  and  'dare.'  ' 

"  Have  you  fallen  in  love  with  Cecil  North,  or 
with  Mr.  Atheling?" 

"  I  am  in  love  with  Annabel  Vyner.  I  worship 
none  of  the  idols  that  have  been  set  up,  either  by 
Tories  or  Reformers.  Men  who  talk  politics  are 
immensely  stupid.  I  shall  marry  a  man  who  is  a 
good  fighter.  Mere  talkers  are  like  barking  dogs. 
Why  don't  these  Reformers  stop  whimpering, 
and  fly  like  a  bull  dog  at  the  throat  of  their 
wrongs?  Then  I  should  go  with  them,  heart  and 
soul  and  purse." 

"  You  are  talking  now  for  talking's  sake, 
Annabel.  You  are  actually  advocating  civil 
war." 

"Am  I  really?  Well,  war  is  man's  natural 
condition.  It  takes  churches,  and  priests,  and 
standing  armies,  and  constables  always  on  hand, 
to  keep  peace  in  any  sort  of  fashion.  We  are  all 
barbarians  under  our  clothes, — just  civilised  on 
the  top." 

"  Such  assertions  are  odious,  and  you  can- 
not prove  them." 

"  I  can.  The  other  evening  I  was  reading  to 
Lord  Tatham  a  most  exquisite  poem  by  that 
young  man  Tennyson ;  and  he  seemed  to  be  en- 
joying it,  until  Algernon  Sydney  showed  him  his 
watch,  and  said  something  about  'the  Black  Boy.' 
Then  his  face  fairly  glowed,  and  he  went  off  with 
a  compliment  that  meant  nothing.  The  next 


156    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

morning  I  found  out  '  the  Black  Boy '  was  a 
famous  pugilist.  We  are  all  of  us,  in  some  way 
or  other,  in  this  mixed  condition." 

"  I  think  you  are  particularly  disagreeable  this 
morning,  Miss." 

"  Pardon,  Duchess.  We  have  fallen  on  a  dis- 
agreeable subject.  Let  us  change  it.  Are  we  to 
drive  to  Richmond  to-day?  " 

"  If  Piers  will  accompany  us.  Ay  !  that  is  his 
knock."  She  turned  a  radiant  face  to  meet  her 
son,  but  received  a  sudden  chill.  Piers  was  pale 
and  sombre-looking;  he  said  he  had  not  slept, 
and  politely  declined  the  Richmond  excursion. 
Annabel  was  sure  he  would.  "  He  will  have  an 
explanation  at  the  Athelings  instead,"  she 
thought ;  and  she  waited  curiously  for  some  re- 
mark which  might  open  the  way  for  her  confes- 
sion —  or  else  close  it.  But  Lord  Exham  did 
not  allude  to  his  loss,  and  the  Duchess  either 
attached  no  importance  to  the  subject,  or  else 
thought  it  too  important  to  bring  forward.  The 
tone  of  the  room  was  not  brightened  by  the 
young  lord's  advent,  and  Annabel  quickly  ex- 
cused herself  from  further  attendance. 

"  He  will  tell  his  mother  when  I  am  not  there ; 
and  I  shall  get  his  opinions,  with  commentaries 
from  her,"  she  thought,  as  she  hurried  to  her 
own  rooms.  Once  there,  she  dismissed  her  maid, 
and  sat  down  to  realise  herself.  She  doubled 
her  little  hands,  and  beat  her  knees  softly  with 
them.  It  was  her  way  of  summoning  her  mental 


Evil  or  Good?  157 

forces,  and  of  collecting  vagrant  and  undecided 
thought. 

"  I  am  just  here,"  she  said  to  her  own  con- 
sciousness. "  I  have  taken  a  ring  from  Lord 
Exham's  finger.  What  for?  Mischief  or  a 
joke?  Which?  Probably  mischief.  I  wanted 
to  turn  it  into  a  joke,  and  my  opportunity  is  gone. 
Not  my  fault.  If  the  Duchess  had  been  in  a  good 
humour,  I  should  have  told  her  all  about  it.  If 
Exham's  manner  had  not  frozen  everything  but 
the  commonplaces  of  propriety,  I  would  have 
teased  him  a  little,  and  then  given  up  the  ring. 
It  is  their  own  fault.  If  people  are  cross  at 
breakfast,  they  deserve  a  disagreeable  day.  I  am 
not  sorry  to  give  them  their  deserts." 

Then  she  rose  and  went  to  her  jewel-case,  and 
took  the  ring  out  and  put  it  on  her  finger.  "  It 
is  a  poor  little  thing  after  all,"  she  said  as  she 
turned  it  round  and  round.  "  The  stones  are  not 
very  fine ;  I  have  sapphires  of  far  finer  colour. 
If  I  give  Kate  Atheling  my  diamond  locket,  she 
will  have  reason  to  be  grateful,  —  the  setting  is, 
however,  really  beautiful ;  that  is  the  point,  I 
suppose.  I  would  like  to  have  a  ring  set  in  the 
same  way;  but  it  would  be  dangerous—  "and 
she  laughed  as  if  she  enjoyed  the  thought  of  the 
danger.  She  took  off  the  ring  at  this  point,  and 
looked  at  it  more  critically.  "  What  must  I  do 
with  the  troublesome  thing?  "  she  asked  herself. 
"  Justine  is  a  curious,  suspicious  creature,  and 
when  she  hears  the  talk  in  the  servants'  hall,  if 


158    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

she  got  but  a  glimpse  of  it,  she  would  put  two 
and  two  together."  A  momentary  resolve  to 
throw  it  into  the  fire-place  of  the  Duke's  par- 
lour came  into  her  mind.  "  If  it  is  found  there," 
she  argued,  "  the  only  supposition  will  be  that 
Piers  dropped  it  on  the  hearth.  If  it  is  not 
found,  there  will  be  no  suppositions  at  all." 

This  resolve,  however,  received  no  real  encour- 
agement. There  is  a  perverse  disposition  in 
human  nature  to  keep  with  special  care  things 
that  incriminate,  or  which  might  become  sources 
of  suspicion  or  trouble ;  and  the  ring  exercised 
over  the  girl  this  fatal  fascination.  She  closed  her 
jewel-case  deliberately,  holding  the  lid  a  trifle  open 
for  a  moment  or  two  of  last  consideration ;  then 
she  dropped  it  with  decision,  and  took  from  her 
pocket  a  small  purse,  made  of  gold  as  flexible  as 
leather  or  satin.  There  were  a  few  sovereigns  in 
one  compartment,  and  a  Hindoo  charm  in  an- 
other. She  put  the  ring  with  the  charm,  and 
closed  the  purse  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction. 
For  the  time  being,  at  any  rate,  it  was  out  of 
her  way;  and  there  were  yet  possibilities  of 
turning  the  whole  matter  into  a  pleasantry. 

"  I  may  even  take  it  to  Kate  Atheling  and  tell 
her  to  claim  my  forfeit."  This  very  improbable 
solution  satisfied  Annabel's  conscience ;  she  was 
at  peace  after  it,  and  able  to  consider  more 
personal  affairs. 

In  order  to  do  this  under  the  most  favourable 
conditions,  she  placed  herself  comfortably  on 


Evil  or  Good?  159 

her  lounge.  Her  fine,  tall  form  lay  at  length, 
supine  and  indolent,  the  feet,  in  their  crimson 
sandals,  crossed  at  the  ankles.  Her  dark,  power- 
ful head,  with  its  masses  of  strong,  black  hair, 
looked  almost  handsome  on  the  pale  amber 
cushions,  with  the  hands  and  arms  — jewelled 
though  it  was  only  morning  —  clasped  above  it. 
She  was  going  to  examine  herself,  and  she  was 
not  one  to  shirk  even  the  innermost  chamber  of 
her  heart. 

"  First,"  she  thought,  "  there  is  Lord  Exham. 
Do  I  really  want  to  marry  him?  Let  me  be 
sure  of  this,  and  then  there  is  nothing  for  him 
to  do,  but  make  out  the  settlements.  He  cannot 
resist  my  influence  when  I  choose  to  exert  it. 
As  yet  I  have  not  troubled  him  much;  but  I 
can  trouble  him  —  and  I  will,  if  I  want  to.  Do 
I?  Be  honest,  Annabel.  There  is  no  use  lying 
to  yourself.  Well,  then,  I  want  to  be  Duchess  of 
Richmoor;  but  I  do  not  want  to  be  Exham's 
wife.  And  if  I  marry  him,  the  present  Duke 
may  live  ten,  twenty,  even  thirty  years.  I  would 
not  wait  for  the  crown  of  England  thirty  years, 
with  a  husband  I  rather  despised;  only — only 
what?  I  do  not  want  that  Atheling  girl  to  marry 
him.  Jane  Warwick,  or  Helen  Percy,  or  Mar- 
garet Gower,  I  would  not  mind  —  but  Kate 
Atheling!  No!  Why?  I  cannot  tell."  Nor 
could  she.  It  was  one  of  those  apparently  un- 
reasonable dislikes  we  bring  into  the  world  with 
us,  and  which,  probably,  are  the  most  reasonable 


160    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

dislikes  of  all.  "  Very  well,  then,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  I  will  not  marry  Piers,  nor  shall  Kate 
Atheling  marry  him.  That  is  fair  enough.  If  I 
manage  to  make  her  give  him  up,  I  give  him  up 
myself  also.  I  am  only  doing  to  her  as  I  do  to 
myself. 

"  Now  there  is  Wynn,  and  Sidmouth,  and 
Russell  —  and  others.  Every  one  of  them  have 
appraised  my  value,  and  made  inquiries  about 
my  wealth.  No  one  has  told  me  this,  but  I 
know  it.  I  know  it  with  that  invincible  cer- 
tainty with  which  women  know  things  they  are 
never  told.  Cecil  North?  Yes,  I  like  Cecil 
North.  He  really  fell  in  love  with  me,  —  with 
•me,  myself,  A  woman  knows;  she  is  never 
deceived  about  that  unless  she  wants  to  be 
deceived.  He  is  poor,  —  the  Westovers  are  all 
poor,  —  I  do  not  care  if  he  is  as  poor  as  Job. 
I  am  tired  to  death  of  rich  people.  If  Cecil 
North  would  get  a  military  commission  in  India, 
I  could  be  his  wife.  I  could  follow  the  drum, 
or  live  in  quarters  with  him,  and  I  should  be  a 
better  and  a  happier  woman  than  I  am  here.  This 
life  is  too  small  for  me." 

She  was  right  in  this  estimation  of  herself. 
Her  nature  was  one  fitted  to  respond  to  great 
emergencies.  She  was  a  woman  for  frontiers 
and  forts,  for  strife  with  men  or  elements,  for 
days  of  danger  in  the  shadow  of  suffering  or 
death ;  and  she  was  living  in  a  society  so  artifi- 
cial that  any  real  cry  of  nature  and  needless 


Evil  or  Good?  161 

familiarity,  any  sign  of  genuine  passion  was 
startling  and  distasteful  to  it.  The  soldierly 
temper  inherited  from  her  father  demanded  an 
adventurous  life,  because  people  made  for  over- 
coming obstacles  cannot  be  morally  healthy 
without  obstacles  to  overcome.  And,  therefore, 
it  was  a  poor  life  for  Annabel  Vyner  that  offered 
her  no  difficulty  to  surmount  but  the  claims  of 
Kate  Atheling.  She  was  quite  aware  of  this, 
and  the  ring  in  her  purse  was  no  real  triumph. 
It  was  rather  one  of  those  irreparable  facts,  the 
very  thought  of  which  gives  pain. 

If  she  had  been  morally  stronger,  she  would 
have  dominated  her  environment,  and  defied  the 
circumstances  that  so  easily  prevented  her  from 
doing  the  right  thing.  She  would  have  been 
obedient  to  Duty;  and  that  grand,  immutable 
principle  would  have  given  her  strength  to  resist 
temptation,  or,  having  fallen  into  it,  to  make  the 
obvious  reparation ;  for 

"So  nigh  is  grandeur  to  our  dust, 

So  near  is  God  to  man, 
When  Duty  whispers  low,  '  Thoti  Must? 
The  Soul  replies,  '  /  Can:  " 

This  morning,  though  she  was  far  from  diag- 
nosing her  feelings  correctly,  Annabel  soon  began 
to  suffer  from  that  nervous  and  even  that  physi- 
cal fatigue  which  is  bred  of  moral  indifference. 
For  nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  moral 
strength  is  the  very  Life  of  life.  She  yawned ; 


162    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

she  felt  the  hours  too  long  to  be  endured,  while 
she  pictured  to  herself  the  scene  in  the  Atheling 
parlour,  when  Piers  would  confess  the  loss  of  the 
ring,  and  Kate  lovingly  excuse  it.  Finally,  she 
became  nervously  angry  at  the  persistence  of  the 
vision.  In  every  possible  way  she  tried  to  banish 
it,  but  though  she  fetched  memories  from  farthest 
India,  the  exasperating  phantasm  would  not  be 
driven  away. 

In  reality  the  affair  produced  very  little  appar- 
ent effect.  Piers  made  his  confession  to  Mrs. 
and  Miss  Atheling  with  so  much  genuine  emo- 
tion that  they  could  not  but  make  light  of  the 
loss  while  he  was  present.  Yet  it  troubled  both 
women  very  much.  Mrs.  Atheling  cried  over  it 
when  she  was  alone ;  and  Kate  took  it  as  a  sign 
of  some  untoward  event  in  the  course  of  love  be- 
tween Piers  and  herself.  No  one  is  able  to  put 
aside  such  inferences  and  presentiments;  and, 
quite  unconsciously,  it  worked  towards  the  end 
Kate  feared.  Piers  began  to  fancy  —  perhaps 
unjustly  —  that  he  never  entered  Kate's  or  Mrs. 
Atheling's  presence  without  seeing  in  their  first 
glance  an  unspoken  inquiry  after  the  lost  ring. 
In  some  measure  he  was  to  blame,  if  this  was  so. 
He  had  employed  detectives  to  watch  such  ser- 
vants of  the  Richmoor  household  as  could  have 
had  access  to  the  Duke's  parlour  on  that  unhappy 
night ;  and  as  the  ladies  were  aware  of  this  move- 
ment, it  was  only  natural  they  should  desire  to 
know  if  any  result  came  from  it. 


Evil  or  Good?  163 

Of  course  there  was  no  result;  and  the  real 
culprit  remained  absolutely  unsuspected.  As  the 
days  wore  away,  her  conscience  grew  accus- 
tomed to  the  situation ;  it  made  no  troublesome 
demands ;  and  Annabel  even  began  to  feel  a  cer- 
tain pleasurable  excitement  in  holding  in  her 
hands  what  might  prove  to  be  a  power  for  great 
good,  or  great  evil,  —  for  she  was  not  yet  ready  to 
admit  an  entirely  evil  intention ;  she  chose  rather 
to  regard  it  as  a  practical  jest  which  she  might 
undo,  or  explain,  in  some  future,  favourable  hour. 

She  kept  the  jewel  always  in  her  purse;  she 
went  frequently  to  the  Athelings ;  and  once  or 
twice  she  had  a  transitory  impulse  to  tell  Kate 
the  whole  circumstance,  and  be  guided  by  her 
advice  in  the  matter.  But  the  Evil  One,  who  had 
prompted  her  in  the  first  instance  to  take  it, 
always  met  these  intents  or  impulses  with  some 
plausible  excuse ;  and  every  good  impulse  which 
does  not  crystallise  into  a  good  action,  only  tends 
towards  the  strengthening  of  the  evil  one.  Then 
outside  events  made  delay  more  easy.  On  the 
fifteenth  of  November,  there  was  a  short,  decided 
argument  in  the  House  of  Commons  on  the  Civil 
List;  a  division  was  promptly  taken,  and  the 
Government  was  found  to  be  in  a  minority  of 
twenty-nine.  The  Squire  and  Lord  Exham  re- 
turned home  together,  both  very  much  annoyed 
at  this  result. 

"  All  this  election  business  will  be  to  go  over 
again,"  the  Squire  said,  wearily.  "  Wellington 


164    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

and  Peel  are  sure  to  take  this  opportunity  to 
resign." 

"Why  should  they  resign,  John?"  asked  Mrs. 
Atheling. 

"  Well,  Maude,"  he  answered,  "  they  are  bound 
to  resign  sooner  or  later ;  and  I  should  think,  if 
they  have  any  sense  left,  they  will  go  out  as 
champions  of  the  royal  prerogative,  rather  than  be 
driven  out  by  a  Reform  division,  which  is  sure 
to  come.  They  will  go  out,  my  word  for  it, 
Maude!" 

"  And  what  then,  John?  " 

"  Well,  then,  we  shall  have  all  the  bother  of  an- 
other election ;  and  Earl  Grey  will  form  a  new 
Ministry,  and  Lord  Brougham  will  bully  the  new 
Ministry,  as  he  has  done  the  old  one,  about  this 
Reform  Bill.  He  intended  to  have  begun  that 
business  this  very  night ;  but  there  was  n't  any 
Ministers,  nor  any  Administration  to  arraign,  and 
so  he  said,  in  his  domineering  way,  that  he  would 
put  the  question  of  Reform  off  until  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  this  month,  and  not  a  day  longer,  no  matter 
what  circumstances  prevailed,  nor  who  were  His 
Majesty's  Ministers.  I  can  tell  you  the  city  was  in 
a  pretty  commotion  as  we  came  home.  We  shall 
have  a  Reform  Government  now,  with  Earl  Grey 
at  the  head,  and  the  real  fight  will  then  begin." 

"  Earl  Grey !  "  said  Mrs.  Atheling ;  "  that  is 
Edgar's  friend." 

"  Well,  I  would  n't  brag  about  it,  Mother,  if  I 
was  thee.  I  shall  have  to  go  back  to  Yorkshire, 


Evil  or  Good?  165 

and  so  will  Exham  ;  and  there  will  be  no  end  of 
bother,  and  a  Reform  Ministry  at  the  end  of  it. 
It  is  too  bad !  What  they  will  do  with  Mr. 
Brougham,  I  am  sure  I  don't  know.  No  Minis- 
try can  live  without  him ;  and  it  will  be  hard 
work  for  any  Ministry  to  live  with  him ;  for  if  he 
drew  up  a  bill  himself,  he  would  find  faults  in  it, 
and  never  rest  until  he  had  torn  it  to  pieces." 

Piers  was  sitting  in  the  embrasure  of  a  window, 
holding  Kate's  hands,  and  talking  to  her  in  those 
low,  sweet  tones  that  women  love;  and  at  this 
remark  he  rose,  and,  coming  towards  the  Squire, 
said  with  a  grave  smile,  "  For  such  dilemmas, 
Squire,  there  are  remedies  made  and  provided. 
If  it  is  a  clever  clergyman  who  arraigns  the 
church,  or  his  superiors,  he  is  made  a  bishop ; 
and  thereafter,  he  sees  no  faults.  If  it  is  a  clever 
Commoner  who  arraigns  the  Government,  the 
Government  makes  him  a  peer;  and  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  he  finds  the  grace  of  silence. 
Earl  Grey  will  have  Mr.  Brougham  made  Lord 
High  Chancellor,  and  then  Lord  Brougham  will 
only  have  the  power  to  put  the  question." 

Exham's  prophecy  proved  to  be  correct. 
Brougham  had  declared  that  under  any  cir- 
cumstances he  would  bring  up  Reform  on  the 
twenty-fifth  of  November;  but  on  the  twenty- 
second  of  November,  he  took  his  seat  as  Chan- 
cellor in  the  House  of  Lords.  It  was  said  the 
Great  Seal  had  been  forced  upon  him ;  but  the 
Squire  wondered  what  pressure,  never  before 


1 66    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

known,  had  been  discovered  to  make  Henry 
Brougham  do  anything,  or  take  anything,  he  did 
not  want  to  do  or  take. 

However  the  feat  was  an  accomplished  one; 
and  with  Earl  Gray,  Lord  Durham,  Sir  James 
Graham,  Viscounts  Melbourne  and  Palmerston, 
and  other  great  leaders,  Brougham  kissed  the 
King's  hand  on  his  appointment  just  three  days 
before  his  threatened  demonstration  for  Reform. 
Soon  after  Parliament  adjourned  for  the  re-elec- 
tion of  Members  in  the  Lower  House ;  and  the 
Duke,  with  Lord  Exham  and  Squire  Atheling, 
went  down  into  Yorkshire. 

Edgar  and  Cecil  North  also  disappeared. 
"  They  have  gone  into  the  country  on  business, 
and  I  '11  tell  you  what  it  is,  Kitty,"  said  Mrs. 
Atheling,  with  a  little  happy  importance.  "  A 
friend  of  Earl  Grey  has  a  close  borough,  and 
Edgar  is  to  have  it.  I  am  sure  I  don't  know 
what  will  happen,  if  he  should  clash  with 
father  in  the  House.  Father  cannot  bear  con- 
tradicting." 

"  Nothing  wrong  will  happen,  Mother." 

"  To  be  sure,  the  floor  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons is  a  bit  different  from  his  own  hearthstone. 
When  Edgar  is  a  Parliament  man,  father  will  give 
him  his  place." 

"  And  Edgar  will  never  forget  to  give  father  his 
place,  I  am  sure  of  that." 

"  I  would  n't  stand  a  minute  with  him  if  he  did. 
What  a  father  and  son  say  to  each  other  in  their 


Evil  or  Good?  167 

homestead,  is  home  talk;  but  Edgar  must  not 
threep  his  father  before  strangers.  No,  indeed  !  " 

"  I  would  n't  wonder  if  father  comes  round  a 
little  to  Edgar's  views.  He  listened  very  pa- 
tiently to  Cecil  North,  the  last  time  they  talked 
on  politics." 

"  He  has  to  listen  in  Parliament,  and  so  he  is 
getting  used  to  listening.  He  never  listened 
patiently  at  home  —  not  even  to  me.  But  we 
can  hope  for  the  best  anyhow,  Kitty." 

"  To  be  sure,  Mother.  Hoping  for  the  best  is 
far  better  than  looking  for  the  worst." 

"  I  should  think  it  was.  Do  you  believe  Piers 
will  be  in  London  at  Christmas?" 

"  I  fear  not.  Mother,  he  is  going  to  send  us 
each  a  ring  at  Christmas ;  then  we  will  forget  the 
other  ring  —  shall  we  not?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  Kitty.  I  think  a  deal  of  that 
other  ring.  No  new  one  can  make  up  for  it. 
Why,  my  dear,  your  father  gave  it  to  me  the 
night  I  promised  to  marry  him.  We  were  stand- 
ing under  the  big  white  hawthorn  at  Belward. 
I  '11  never  forget  that  hour." 

"It  is  so  long  ago,  Mother  —  you  cannot  care 
very  much  now  about  it." 

"  Now,  Kitty,  if  you  think  only  young  people 
can  be  in  love,  get  that  idea  out  of  your  mind  at 
once.  You  don't  know  anything  about  love  yet. 
After  twenty-five  years  bearing,  and  forbearing, 
and  childbearing,  you  will  smile  at  your  gentle- 
shepherding  of  to-day.  Your  love  is  only  a 


i68    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

fancy  now,  it  will  be  a  fact  then  that  has  its 
foundations  in  your  very  life.  You  do  not  love 
Piers  Exham,  child,  as  I  love  your  father.  You 
can't.  It  is  n't  to  be  expected.  And  it  is  a  good 
thing,  love  is  so  ordered ;  for  if  it  did  not  grow 
stronger,  instead  of  weaker,  marrying  would  be  a 
poor  way  of  living." 

"  That  weary  ring !  I  am  so  sorry  that  I  ever 
put  it  on." 

"  I  did  not  ask  you  to  put  it  on,  Kitty.  I  did 
not  want  you  to  put  it  on." 

"Mother,  please  don't  be  cross." 

"Kitty,  don't  be  unjust;  it  is  not  like  you." 

Then  Kitty  laid  her  cheek  against  her 
mother's  cheek,  and  said  sadly,  "I  fear,  some- 
how, that  ring  will  make  trouble  between  Piers 
and  me." 

"Nonsense,  dearie!  The  ring  is  lost  and 
gone.  It  can't  make  trouble  now." 

"Its  loss  was  a  bad  omen,  Mother." 

"There  is  no  omen  against  true  love,  Kitty. 
Love  counts  every  sign  a  good  sign." 

"The  Duke  was  very  formal  with  me  at  my 
last  visit.  The  Duchess  dislikes  me;  and  Miss 
Vyner  has  so  many  opportunities ;  it  seems  nearly 
impossible  that  Piers  should  ever  marry  me." 

"If  Piers  loves  you,  there  is  no  impossibility. 
Love  works  miracles.  You  cannot  say  '  impos- 
sible '  to  Love.  Love  will  find  out  a  way." 


A  Foolish  Virgin  169 


CHAPTER   NINTH 

A  FOOLISH  VIRGIN 

PARLIAMENT  was  adjourned  on  the  twenty- 
third  of  December,  and  did  not  re-assemble 
until  the  third  of  February.  The  interval  was 
one  of  great  public  excitement  and  of  great 
private  anxiety.  The  country  had  been  assured 
of  a  Government  pledged  to  Reform ;  and,  in  the 
main,  were  waiting  as  patiently  as  men,  hungry 
and  naked,  and  burning  with  a  sense  of  injury 
and  injustice,  could  wait.  But  no  one  knew 
what  hour  a  spark  might  be  cast  into  such  in- 
flammable material,  — that  would  mean  Revolu- 
tion instead  of  Reform. 

Consequently  life  was  depressed,  and  not  dis- 
posed to  any  exhibition  of  wealth  or  festivity; 
the  most  heartless  and  reckless  feeling  that  it 
would  not  be  endured  by  men  and  women  on 
the  very  verge  of  starvation.  The  Queen  also 
was  unpopular,  and  the  great  social  leaders 
were,  as  a  general  thing,  bitter  political  parti- 
sans; in  theatres  and  ball-rooms  and  even  on 
the  streets,  the  Whig  and  Tory  ladies,  when 
they  met,  looked  at  one  another  as  Guelphs 


170    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

and  Ghibellines,  instead  of  christened  English 
gentlewomen. 

Both  the  Duchess  of  Richmoor  and  Miss 
Vyner  were  women  of  strong  and  irrepressible 
prejudices;  and,  before  Parliament  adjourned, 
they  had  made  for  themselves  an  environment  of 
active,  political  enemies.  And  women  carry 
their  politics  into  their  domestic  and  social  life; 
the  Duchess  had  wounded  many  of  her  oldest 
friends;  and  Annabel,  with  the  haughty  intol- 
erance of  youth  and  wealth,  had  succeeded  in 
making  herself  a  person  whom  all  the  ladies  of 
the  Reform  party  delighted  either  to  positively 
offend,  or  to  scornfully  ignore. 

These  circumstances,  with  all  her  audacity  and 
advantages,  she  was  unable  to  control.  Her 
brilliant  beauty,  her  clever  tongue,  her  ostenta- 
tious dress  and  display  were  as  nothing  against 
the  united  disposition  of  a  score  of  other  women 
to  make  her  understand  that  they  neither  de- 
sired her  friendship  nor  felt  her  influence ;  and 
she  had  at  least  the  sense  to  retire  from  a  con- 
flict "whose  weapons,"  she  said  contemptu- 
ously, "were  not  in  her  armory."  This  condi- 
tion of  affairs  naturally  threw  her  very  much 
upon  the  Athelings  for  society.  While  the 
Duchess  sat  with  a  few  old  ladies  of  her  own 
caste  and  political  persuasion,  talking  fearfully 
of  the  state  of  English  society  and  of  the  horrors 
Reform  would  inaugurate  for  the  nobility, 
Annabel  spent  her  time  with  Mrs.  and  Miss 


A  Foolish  Virgin  171 

Atheling,  and  learned  to  look  hopefully  into  a 
future  in  which,  perhaps,  there  would  be  neither 
dukes  nor  lords.  Besides,  Cecil  North  had  a 
habit  of  visiting  the  Athelings  also;  and,  with- 
out expressed  arrangement,  both  Cecil  and 
Annabel  looked  forward  to  those  charming 
lunches  which  Mrs.  Atheling  dispensed  with  so 
little  ceremony  and  so  much  good  nature.  It 
had  been  Cecil's  intention  to  go  with  Edgar 
into  the  country;  but  when  the  hour  for  depar- 
ture arrived,  he  had  not  been  able  to  leave 
Annabel's  vicinity,  and,  in  some  of  those  mys- 
terious ways  known  to  Love,  she  understood, 
and  was  pleased  with  this  evidence  of  her  power. 

Cecil's  mother  had  been  particularly  promi- 
nent in  that  social  ostracism  the  Reform  ladies 
had  meted  out  to  her;  and  it  gave  to  the  real 
liking  which  she  had  for  Cecil  a  piquant  relish 
to  parade  the  young  man  as  her  devoted  servant 
in  all  places  where  his  noble  mother  would  be 
likely  to  see  or  hear  tell  of  her  son's  "infatua- 
tion." But  Cecil  North's  affection,  and  the 
favour  it  received,  did  not  much  influence  Kate. 
With  the  perversity  of  a  woman  in  love,  she 
believed  Annabel  to  be  only  amusing  herself 
during  Lord  Exham's  absence;  and  she  ac- 
cepted, without  a  doubt,  all  the  little  innu- 
endoes, and  half-truths,  and  half-admissions 
which  Annabel  suffered  herself,  as  it  were,  with- 
out intent,  to  make. 

Thus   the   dreary   winter   days  passed  slowly 


172    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

away.  In  January  Edgar  returned.  His  elec- 
tion had  been  a  mere  walk  over  the  ground. 
The  patron  of  the  borough  of  Shereham  had 
spoken  the  word,  and  Edgar  Atheling  was  its 
lawful  representative.  It  was  a  poor  little 
place,  but  it  gave  Edgar  a  vote  on  the  right  side ; 
and  Earl  Grey  also  hoped  much  from  his  power 
as  a  natural  orator.  He  might  take  Brougham's 
place,  and  be  far  more  amenable  to  directions 
than  Brougham  had  ever  been.  Mrs.  Atheling 
considered  none  of  these  things.  She  took  in 
only  the  grand  fact  that  her  son  was  in  Parlia- 
ment, and  that  he  must  have  won  his  place  there 
by  some  transcendent  personal  merit.  True, 
she  had  some  little  qualms  of  fear  as  to  how 
Edgar's  father  would  treat  the  new  representa- 
tive of  Englishmen;  but  her  invincible  habit  of 
hoping  and  her  cheerful  way  of  looking  into  the 
future  did  not  suffer  these  passing  doubts  to 
seriously  mar  her  glory  and  pride  in  her  son's 
dignity. 

In  fact,  even  in  Annabel's  eyes,  Edgar  Athel- 
ing was  now  an  important  person.  Women  do 
not  consider  causes,  they  look  at  results;  and 
in  Edgar  Atheling' s  case  the  result  was  satisfac- 
tory. On  the  day  the  new  member  for  Shereham 
returned  home,  she  was  lunching  with  the  Athel- 
ings,  eating  her  salad  and  playing  with  Cecil 
North's  heart,  when  Edgar  entered  the  room. 
His  honour  sat  well  on  him ;  he  neither  paraded, 
nor  yet  affectedly  ignored  it.  His  mother's 


A  Foolish  Virgin  173 

pride,  his  sister's  pleasure,  and  the  congratula- 
tions of  his  friends  made  him  happy,  and  he 
showed  it.  The  lunch  that  was  nearly  finished 
was  delayed  for  another  hour.  No  one  liked  to 
break  up  the  delightful  meal  and  conversation; 
and  when  Annabel  got  back  to  Richmoor  House 
the  short  day  was  over,  and  the  Duchess  had 
sent  an  escort  to  hurry  her  return. 

"You  are  exceedingly  imprudent,  Annabel," 
she  said,  when  the  girl  entered  her  presence; 
"and  I  do  think  it  high  time  you  stopped  visit- 
ing so  much  at  one  house." 

"Duchess,  will  you  say  what  other  house 
equally  charming  is  open  to  me?  You  know 
how  little  of  a  favourite  I  am.  To-day  I  was 
delayed  by  an  event,  — the  return  of  young  Athel- 
ing  after  his  election.  He  is  now  an  M.  P.,  — 
a  great  honour  for  so  young  a  man,  I  think." 

"  Honour,  indeed  !  Grey  or  Durham,  or  some 
of  those  renegades  to  their  own  caste,  have  given 
him  a  seat.  Grey  would  give  a  seat  to  a  puppy 
if  it  could  bark  '  aye  '  for  him." 

"Well,  I  should  not  think  Atheling  will  be  a 
dumb  dog;  he  has  a  ready  tongue.  Mr.  North 
says  he  will  take  Brougham's  place." 

"  He  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  Young 
Atheling  is  a  fine  talker  when  he  has  to  face  a 
mob  of  grumbling  men  on  a  Yorkshire  moor  or 
a  city  common.  It  is  a  different  thing,  Anna- 
bel, to  stand  up  before  the  gentlemen  of  Eng- 
land. As  for  Mr.  North,  I  have  told  you  before 


174    I>  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

that  both  the  Duke  and  myself  seriously  object 
to  that  entanglement." 

Annabel  laughed.  "There  is  no  entangle- 
ment, Duchess,  —  that  is,  on  my  part. " 

"  Then  why  throw  yourself  continually  in  the 
young  man's  way? " 

"  You  are  scarcely  polite.  He  throws  himself 
in  my  way. " 

"Pardon.     I  meant  nothing  disrespectful." 

"And  I  have  reasons." 

"  May  I  know  them  ?  " 

"Yes.  Mr.  North's  mother  was  particularly 
insulting  to  me  at  the  last  Morning  Concert  I 
attended.  I  heard  also  that  she  had  spoken  of 
me  as  '  an  Indian  girl  of  doubtful  parentage. ' 
She  is  particularly  fond  of  Cecil,  who  is  her 
youngest  child,  and  she  is  trying  to  make  a  mar- 
riage between  him  and  that  enormously  rich 
Miss  Curzon.  I  am  going  to  defeat  her  plans." 

Then  the  Duchess  laughed.  "  I  never  inter- 
fere with  any  woman's  retributions,"  she  said. 
"  But  do  not  burn  yourself  at  the  fire  you  kindle 
for  others. " 

"I  am  fire-proof." 

"  I  must  think  so,  or  surely  Piers  would  have 
influenced  you." 

"  Lord  Exham  never  tried  to  '  influence  '  me ; 
and  only  one  woman  in  the  world  can  '  influence  ' 
him." 

"You  mean  Miss  Atheling,  of  course;  and  I 
have  already  told  you  that  there  is  not  even  a 


A  Foolish  Virgin  175 

supposition  in  that  case.  Miss  Atheling  is  out 
of  the  question.  The  Duke  would  never  consent 
to  such  a  marriage;  and  I  would  never  forgive 
it.  Never!  I  should  prefer  to  lose  my  son 
altogether." 

"Then  you  ought  to  let  Miss  Atheling  know 
how  you  feel.  She  is  a  very  honourable,  yes, 
a  very  proud  girl.  She  would  not  force  herself 
into  your  family,  no  matter  how  much  she  loved 
your  son.  Now,  I  would.  If  I  had  thought 
you  did  not  want  me  to  marry  Lord  Exham,  I 
should  probably  have  been  his  wife  to-day." 

The  Duchess  glanced  at  the  speaker  a  little 
scornfully,  and  said,  "  Perhaps  you  over-estimate 
your  abilities.  However,  Annabel,  your  sug- 
gestion about  Miss  Atheling  has  much  likeli- 
hood. I  shall  make  an  opportunity  to  speak  to 
her.  Will  you  go  out  to-night?  There  will  be 
the  usual  crush  at  Lady  Paget's. " 

"Excuse  me,  I  do  not  wish  to  go."  The 
statement  was  correct.  She  had  begun  to 
weary  of  a  routine  of  visiting  that  lacked  deci- 
sive personal  interest.  She  had  many  lovers; 
but  even  love-making  grows  tiresome  unless  it 
is  reciprocal,  or  has  some  spice  of  jealousy,  or 
some  element  of  the  chase  in  it.  Cecil  North 
did  interest  her,  and  Piers  Exham  did  stimulate 
her  desire  for  conquest;  but  Cecil  was  most 
pleasantly  met  at  the  Athelings,  and  Lord 
Exham  was  in  Yorkshire. 

So,  after  dining  alone  with  the  Duchess,  she 


176    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

went  to  a  little  drawing-room  that  was  her 
favourite  resort.  The  great  ash  logs  burned 
brightly  on  the  white  marble  hearth,  and  threw 
shifting  lights  on  the  white-and-gold  furnish- 
ings, on  the  pictured  walls,  on  the  ferns  and 
flowers,  and  on  the  lovely  marble  forms  of  two 
wood  nymphs  among  them.  She  placed  herself 
comfortably  in  a  large  easy-chair,  with  her 
back  to  the  argand  lamp,  and  stretched  out  her 
sandalled  feet  before  the  blaze,  and  nestled  her 
head  among  the  soft  white  cushions.  The  deli- 
cious drowsy  atmosphere  was  a  physical  satisfac- 
tion of  the  highest  order  to  her,  quite  as  much 
so  as  it  was  to  the  splendid  Persian  cat  that 
grumblingly  resigned,  at  her  order,  the  pleas- 
antest  end  of  the  snow-white  rug. 

"Now  I  can  think,"  she  said  with  lazy  satis- 
faction, as  she  closed  her  restless  eyes  and 
began  the  operation.  "In  the  first  place,  I 
have  set  a  ball  rolling  that  I  may  not  be  able  to 
manage.  It  is  in  the  hand  of  the  Duchess,  and 
she  will  have  no  scruples  —  she  never  has,  if  she 
is  fighting  for  her  own  side.  Perhaps  I  ought 
not  to  have  given  her  such  a  '  leader, '  for  Kate 
Atheling  has  always  been  kind  to  me  —  thought- 
ful about  Cecil,  ready  at  making  excuses  to  let 
us  have  a  little  solitude,  arranging  shopping 
excursions  in  his  presence,  so  that  he  would 
know  where  he  could  '  accidentally  '  meet  us  — 
and  so  on.  No,  it  was  not  exactly  kind;  but 
then,  in  love  and  war,  all  things  are  fair  —  and  I 


A  Foolish  Virgin  177 

dare  say  Miss  Kate's  motives  were  probably 
selfish  enough.  She  would  give  me  Cecil  to 
make  her  own  way  clear  to  Piers;  and,  also, 
Cecil  is  a  favourite  with  the  Athelings  and 
young  Atheling's  friend;  and  they  know  that 
he  is  poor,  and  doubtless  wish  to  help  him  to  a 
rich  wife.  Every  one  works  out  their  own  plan, 
why  should  not  I  do  the  same?  But  I  must 
find  out  something  about  that  ring,  and,  as  the 
straight  way  is  the  best  way,  I  will  ask  Kate  the 
necessary  questions.  She  will  be  sure  to  betray 
herself. " 

Then  she  opened  her  purse,  took  out  the  ring, 
and  placed  it  upon  her  finger,  holding  up  her 
hand  to  the  blaze  to  catch  its  reflections.  "  It  is 
a  pretty  little  thing,  but  I  have  bought  it  two  or 
three  times  over  with  my  diamond  locket.  I 
wonder  why  Kate  never  wears  that  locket!  Is 
it  too  fine?  Or  has  she  some  feeling  against 
me?  I  gave  her  it  at  Christmas,  and  I  have 
only  seen  it  once  on  her  neck  —  that  is  strange ! 
I  never  thought  of  it  before  —  it  really  is  not 
much  of  a  ring  —  I  have  twenty  finer  ones  —  and 
I  dare  say  I  shall  give  it  back  some  day :  yes,  of 
course  I  shall  give  it  back  —  but  at  present  —  " 
and  she  stopped  thinking  of  the  demands  of 
the  present,  and  taking  the  ring  off  her  finger 
laid  it  in  the  palm  of  her  hand,  and  softly  tossed 
it  and  the  Hindoo  charm  up  and  down  together 
ere  she  replaced  them  in  their  receptacle. 

Evidently  she  had  arranged  things  comfortably 


iy8    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

with  herself,  for,  after  closing  the  purse,  she 
began  to  swing  it  by  its  golden  chain  before  the 
cat's  eyes,  until  the  creature  became  thoroughly 
annoyed,  and  tried  to  catch  the  gleaming,  tan- 
talising worry  with  its  claws.  The  play  de- 
lighted her;  she  gave  herself  up  to  its  tormenting 
charm,  and  for  once  lost,  in  the  momentary 
amusement,  all  consciousness  of  herself  and  her 
appearance.  It  was  then  the  great  white  door 
swung  noiselessly  open,  and  Lord  Exham  stood 
within  it.  The  sensuous  little  drama,  so  full  of 
colour  and  life,  instantly  arrested  him ;  and  he 
stood  motionless  to  watch  it.  The  girl's  strong, 
vivid  face,  her  black  hair,  her  dress  of  bright 
scarlet,  her  arms  and  hands  flashing  with  gems, 
were  thrown  into  dazzling  prominence  by  the 
chair  of  white  brocade  in  which  she  sat,  and  the 
white  rug  at  her  feet,  and  the  lamp  shining 
behind  her.  She  waved  the  golden  purse  before 
the  cat's  eyes,  and  let  it  almost  fall  into  the 
eager  paws,  and  then  drew  it  backward  with  a 
little  laugh,  and  was  not  aware  that  she  was,  in 
the  act,  an  absolutely  bewitching  type  of  mere 
physical  beauty. 

But  Piers  was  aware  of  it.  He  forgot  every- 
thing but  delight  in  the  moving  picture;  and, 
as  he  advanced,  he  cried,  in  a  voice  full  of 
pleasure,  "Annabel!  Annabel!"  And  the  girl 
answered  her  name  with  an  instantaneous  move- 
ment towards  him.  Her  radiant  face  looked 
into  his  face,  and  ere  they  were  aware  they  had 


A  Foolish  Virgin  179 

met  in  each  other's  arms  and  Piers  had  kissed 
her. 

She  was  silent  and  smiling,  and  he  instantly 
recovered  himself.  "I  ask  your  pardon,"  he 
said,  releasing  her  and  bowing  gravely;  "but 
you  are  one  of  the  family,  you  know,  and  I  have 
been  long  away,  and  am  so  glad  to  get  home 
again  that  some  liberty  must  be  excused  me." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  she  answered,  with  a  pretty 
pout,  "  I  think  the  apology  is  the  worst  part  of 
the  business,"  and  she  looked  into  his  eyes  with 
that  steady,  unwinking  gaze  which  none  with- 
stand. Then  he  drew  her  closer,  and  said 
softly,  "You  are  simply  bewildering  to-night, 
Annabel.  How  have  you  made  yourself  so 
beautiful  ?  "  As  he  spoke  he  led  her  to  her  seat, 
and  drew  a  chair  close  to  her  side;  and  the  cat 
leaped  to  his  knee  and  began  to  loudly  purr  her 
satisfaction  in  her  master's  return. 

"Are  you  alone  to-night?"  he  asked.  "Or 
perhaps  you  are  expecting  company?  " 

"  I  am  alone.  I  expected  no  company ;  but 
Destiny  loves  surprises,  and  to-night  she  has 
surpassed  herself.  The  Duchess  has  gone  to 
Lady  Paget's.  I  could  not  sacrifice  myself  so 
far.  You  know  what  her  political  nights  are. 
And  if  it  is  not  Relief  Bills,  and  Reform  Bills, 
then  it  is  Mr.  Clarkson  and  Anti-Slavery ;  and 
we  are  solemnly  told  to  make  little  petticoats 
for  the  negro  children  if  we  desire  to  go  to 
heaven."  She  laughed,  and  dropped  her  eyes, 


180    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

and  was  silent;  and  the  silence  grew  dangerous. 
Fortunately,  she  herself  broke  the  spell  by  ask- 
ing Piers  if  he  had  seen  Squire  Atheling  in 
Yorkshire. 

"We  came  from  Yorkshire  together,"  he  said. 
Then  he  began  to  talk  about  the  election,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  a  butler  announced  his  dinner, 
and  Annabel's  hour  was  over. 

She  was  not  disappointed.  "We  went  far 
enough,"  she  thought.  "I  am  not  yet  ready  to 
put  my  hand  out  further  than  I  can  draw  it  back. 
I  cannot  give  up  Cecil  now;  he  is  the  only  pri- 
vate pleasure  I  have.  Every  other  thing  I  share 
with  the  Duchess,  or  somebody  else.  And 
Piers  I  should  have  to  share  with  her  and  the 
Duke.  As  heir  to  the  dukedom,  they  will 
always  retain  a  right  in  his  time  and  interests. 
No,  Lord  Exham,  not  yet  —  not  yet. " 

She  rose  with  the  words,  and  went  to  the 
piano  and  dashed  off  in  splendid  style  that 
famous  old  military  fantasia,  "The  Battle  of 
Prague."  And  the  drift  of  her  uncontrolled 
thoughts  during  it  may  be  guessed  by  the  first 
query  she  made  of  her  intelligence  when  the 
noisy  music  ceased:  — 

"I  wonder  what  the  Athelings  are  doing? 
Piers  says  the  Squire  is  at  home.  I  suppose 
Mrs.  Atheling  and  Kate  are  coddling,  and  pet- 
ting, and  feeding  him." 

In  some  respects  Annabel  judged  fairly  well. 
The  Squire  reached  his  home  about  the  same 


A  Foolish  Virgin  181 

time  that  Lord  Exham  arrived  at  Richmoor 
House,  and  found  Mrs.  Atheling  waiting  to 
receive  him.  He  made  no  secret  of  his  joy  in 
seeing  her  again.  "  I  was  afraid  thou  mightst  be 
gadding  about  somewhere,  Maude,"  he  said. 
"It  is  pleasant  to  find  thee  at  home." 

"John  Atheling!" 

"Well,  it  is  too  bad  to  say  such  a  thing, 
Maude.  I  knew  well  I  would  find  thee  at  home 
when  there  was  either  chance  or  likelihood  of  my 
getting  back  there.  But  where  is  little  Kitty? 
It  isn't  right  without  Kitty." 

"Well,  John,  Squire  Pickering's  family  came 
to  London  a  few  days  ago,  and  Kitty  has  gone 
to  the  theatre  with  them. " 

"I'll  tell  thee  a  good  joke  about  Squire 
Pickering,  Maude,"  said  the  Squire,  laughing 
heartily  as  he  spoke.  "  He  was  feared  young 
Sam  Pickering  was  going  to  vote  for  Reform, 
and  he  served  a  writ  on  him  for  a  trespass,  or 
something  of  that  sort,  and  got  him  put  safely  in 
jail  till  voting  time  was  over.  Then  he  quashed 
the  writ  and  let  the  lad  out.  But,  my  word ! 
young  Sam  is  fighting  furious,  and  he  has 
treated  his  father  nearly  as  bad  as  Edgar  treated 
me." 

"Edgar  is  going  to  Parliament  now.  I  told 
thee  he  would.  John,  for  goodness'  sake,  don't 
quarrel  with  him  before  all  England ! " 

"Maude  Atheling!  I  never  quarrelled  with 
Edgar.  Never!  He  quarrelled  with  me.  If 


1 82    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

he  had  done  his  duty  by  his  father,  we  would 
have  been  finger  and  thumb,  buckle  and  strap, 
yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  to-morrow,  and  every 
other  day.  The  Duke  says  my  anger  at  Edgar 
is  quite  reasonable  and  justifiable." 

"The  Duke!  So  then  thou  art  framing  thy 
opinions  to  what  he  says.  Dear  me!  I  would  n't 
have  believed  such  a  thing  could  ever  come  to 
pass." 

"Wait  till  it  does  come  to  pass.  Why,  Rich- 
moor  and  I  very  near  came  to  quarrelling  point 
because  I  would  not  frame  my  opinions  by  his 
say-so.  I  have  been  looking  into  things  a  bit, 
Maude,  more  than  I  ever  did  before,  and  I  have 
learned  what  I  am  not  going  to  deny  for  any- 
body. I  met  Philip  Brotherton  of  Knaseborough, 
and  he  asked  me  to  go  home  with  him  for  two 
or  three  days —  You  know  Philip  and  I  have 
been  friends  ever  since  we  were  lads,  and  our 
fathers  before  us." 

"  I  know  that. " 

"  So  I  went  with  him,  and  he  showed  me  how 
working  men  live  and  labour  in  such  towns  as 
Leeds  and  Manchester;  and  I  am  not  going  to 
say  less  than  it  is  a  sin  and  a  shame  to  keep 
human  beings  alive  on  such  terms.  I  do  not 
believe  any  Reform  Bill  is  going  to  help  them ; 
but  they  ought  to  be  helped ;  and  they  must  be 
helped;  or  else  government  is  nothing  but 
blunderment,  and  legislating  nothing  but  folly. 
And  I  said  as  much  to  Richmoor,  and  he  asked 


A  Foolish  Virgin  183 

me  if  my  son  had  been  lecturing  me;  and  I  told 
him  I  had  been  using  my  own  eyes,  and  my  own 
ears,  and  my  own  conscience." 

"  What  did  he  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  He  said,  '  Squire,  I  do  not  like  your  asso- 
ciating with  Philip  Brotherton.  The  man  has 
radical  ideas,  though  he  does  not  profess  them. ' 
And  I  said,  '  I  like  Philip  Brotherton,  and  I 
shall  associate  with  him  whenever  I  can  make 
it  convenient  to  do  so;  and  as  for  his  ideas,  if 
they  are  radical,  then  Christianity  is  radical; 
and  as  for  professing  them,  Philip  Brotherton 
does  better  than  that,  he  lives  them ; '  and  I 
went  on  to  say  that  I  thought  it  would  be  a 
right  and  righteous  thing  if  both  landlords  and 
loomlords  would  do  the  same." 

"  My  word,  John  !  Thou  didst  speak  up!  I  '11 
warrant  Richmoor  was  angry  enough." 

The  Squire  laughed  a  little  as  he  answered, 
"Well,  Maude,  he  got  as  red  in  the  face  as  a 
turkey-cock,  and  he  asked  me  if  I  was  really 
going  to  be  Philip  Brotherton's  fool.  And  I 
answered,  '  No,  I  am  like  you,  Duke,  I  do  my 
own  business  in  that  line. '  And  he  said,  '  Squire 
Atheling! '  and  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked 
one  way ;  and  I  said,  '  Duke  Richmoor! '  and 
turned  on  my  heel  and  walked  the  other  way. 
Now  then,  Maude,  dost  thou  think  he  orders  my 
opinions  for  me? " 

And  Mrs.  Atheling  smiled  understandingly 
in  her  lord's  face,  and  cut  him  a  double  portion 


184    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

from  the  best  part  of  the  haunch  of  venison  she 
was  carving. 

A  few  days  after  this  event  Annabel  called 
one  morning  at  the  Athelings.  She  expected 
Cecil  North  to  be  there,  and  he  was  not  there ; 
she  waited  for  him  to  come,  and  he  did  not 
come;  she  tried  in  many  devious  ways  to  get 
Kate  to  express  an  opinion  about  his  absence, 
and  Kate  seemed  entirely  unconscious  of  it.  It 
provoked  her  into  an  ill-natured  anger;  and, 
casting  about  in  her  mind  for  something  disa- 
greeable to  say,  she  remembered  her  resolve  to 
find  out  how  the  sapphire  ring  came  to  be  in 
Lord  Exham's  possession.  Even  if  "the  straight 
way  had  not  been  the  best  way,"  she  was  by 
nature  inclined  to  direct  inquiries ;  and  she  had 
just  proven  in  her  mental  manoeuvring  about 
Cecil  North  that  indirect  methods  were  not  sat- 
isfactory. So  she  said  bluntly :  — 

"  Kate,  did  you  ever  hear  about  Lord  Exham 
losing  a  ring  he  valued  very  much  ?  " 

"Yes,"  answered  Kate,  without  the  slightest 
embarrassment;  "it  was  my  mother's  ring." 

"Your  mother's  ring? " 

"Yes." 

"But  Lord  Exham  had  it  on  his  finger." 

"  My  mother  loaned  it  to  him.  He  admired 
it  very  much,  and  wished  to  have  one  made 
like  it." 

"The  Duchess  was  sure  that  some  lady  had 
given  it  to  him  as  a  love  gage.  Do  you  know 


A  Foolish  Virgin  185 

that  he  has  fretted  himself  sick  about  its 
loss?" 

"Oh,  no!  I  am  sure  he  is  not  sick.  My 
mother  made  light  of  the  loss  to  him,  though  she 
really  was  very  much  attached  to  that  particular 
ring." 

"  Have  I  ever  seen  her  wear  it  ?  " 

"No.     It  was  too  small  for  .her." 

"  Then  it  was  a  simple  souvenir  ?  " 

"  It  was  more  than  that ;  it  was  her  betrothal 
ring.  Father  bought  it  in  Venice." 

"Oh!" 

"But  she  had  a  slim  little  hand,  then  —  like 
mine  is  now  —  "  said  Kate,  laughing,  and  spread- 
ing out  her  hand  for  Annabel  to  observe. 

"  Then  you  must  have  been  talking  of  rings, 
and  shown  it  to  him." 

"I  was  wearing  it.  I  had  it  on  during  the 
lunch  hour,  and  you  were  present.  It  is  a 
wonder  you  did  not  notice  it,  for  you  are  so 
curious  about  finger-rings." 

"Yes,  I  am  quite  a  ring  collector." 

"It  was  rather  a  singular  ring." 

"Will  you  describe  it  to  me?" 

Kate  did  so,  and  Annabel  listened  with  appar- 
ent curiosity.  "  I  wonder  what  Exham  could 
want  with  such  a  queer  ring,"  she  said  in 
answer. 

"  Perhaps  he  is  also  a  ring  collector. " 

"  Perhaps !  "  But  the  one  word  by  no  means 
explained  the  thoughts  forming  in  her  mind. 


1 86    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

She  rose,  and,  lifting  her  bonnet,  went  to  a 
mirror  and  carefully  tied  the  satin  ribbons  under 
her  chin,  in  the  big  bows  then  considered  vastly 
becoming.  Kate  tried  to  arrest  her  hands. 
"Stay  and  take  lunch  with  us,"  she  urged. 
"Edgar  is  sure  to  be  here;  and  I  should  like 
him  to  see  you  in  that  pretty. cloth  pelisse." 

"Mr.  Atheling  never  notices  me;  then  why 
should  he  notice  my  pelisse?  I  heard  Lady 
Inglis  say  that  he  is  very  much  in  Miss  Curzon's 
society.  If  so,  he  will  clash  with  his  friend  Mr. 
North,  who  is  also  her  devoted  slave." 

"  Now,  Annabel !  You  know  that  Cecil 
North  loves  no  one  but  you." 

"How  can  you  be  so  wise  about  his  love- 
affairs?" 

"  No  great  wisdom  is  needed  to  see  what  he 
cannot  hide." 

"  Was  he  here  yesterday  ?  " 

"  He  was  here  last  night.  He  called  to  tell 
us  he  was  going  to  Westover  on  some  business 
for  his  father.  I  suppose  he  wanted  you  to 
know. " 

"But  you  never  thought  of  telling  me.  How 
selfish  girls  in  love  are !  They  cannot  think  a 
thought  beyond  their  own  lover.  I  declare  I 
was  going  without  giving  you  my  news,  —  the 
Duchess  has  a  large  dinner  party  on  the  first  of 
March.  The  Tory  ladies  will  wait  in  her  rooms 
the  reading  of  this  famous  Reform  Bill  that 
Lord  John  Russell  is  concocting,  and  there  will 


A  Foolish  Virgin  187 

be  a  great  crowd.  Kate,  if  I  was  you,  I  would 
wear  your  court  dress.  It  is  very  unlikely  that 
the  Queen  will  receive  at  all  this  season." 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  not  be  invited  to  the 
dinner." 

"  You  certainly  will  be  invited.  I  heard  the 
list  read,  and  as  your  name  begins  with  '  A  '  it 
was  almost  the  first.  If  Mr.  Atheling  does 
come  to  lunch,  give  him  my  respects  and  de- 
scribe my  pelisse  to  him." 

She  went  away  with  this  mocking  message, 
and  was  driven  first  to  a  famous  jeweller's,  where 
she  bought  a  sapphire  band  sufficiently  like  the 
one  Lord  Exham  had  lost  to  pass  for  it,  if  the 
view  was  cursory  and  at  a  distance.  Kate's 
confidence  had  made  one  course  exceedingly 
plain  to  Annabel.  She  said  to  herself  as  she 
drove  through  the  city  streets,  "  My  best  plan  is 
evidently  to  arouse  Squire  Atheling's  suspicions. 
I  will  let  him  see  the  ring  on  my  hand.  I  will 
lead  him  to  think  Piers  gave  it  to  me.  He  will 
of  course  make  inquiries,  and  I  wonder  what 
Mrs.  Atheling  and  Kate  will  say.  It  is  a 
pretty  piece  of  confusion  —  and,  if  the  matter 
goes  too  far,  I  reserve  the  power  to  play  the  good 
fairy  and  put  all  right.  This  is  a  complication 
I  shall  enjoy  thoroughly,  and  I  am  sure,  with 
nothing  on  earth  but  Reform  and  Revolution  in 
my  ears,  I  deserve  some  little  private  amuse- 
ment. All  I  have  to  do  is  to  be  constantly  ready 
for  opportunities." 


1 88    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Opportunities,  however,  with  Squire  Atheling, 
were  few  and  far  between.  It  was  not  until  the 
day  before  the  first  of  March  she  found  one. 
On  that  afternoon  she  called  at  the  Athelings, 
and  found  Mrs.  and  Miss  Atheling  out.  The 
Squire  was  walking  from  the  fire-place  to  the 
window,  and  from  the  window  to  the  fire-place, 
and  grumbling  at  their  absence.  Miss  Vyner's 
entrance  diverted  him  for  a  few  minutes;  and 
as  they  were  talking  a  servant  brought  in  a  small 
package.  The  Squire  took  it  up,  and  laid  it 
down,  and  then  took  it  up  again,  and  was  evi- 
dently either  anxious  or  curious  concerning  its 
contents. 

"  Why  do  you  not  open  your  package,  Squire  ?  " 
asked  Annabel. 

"  Well,  young  lady,  I  am  not  going  to  act  as 
if  your  presence  was  not  entertainment  enough 
and  to  spare. " 

"  Nonsense !  Please  do  not  stand  on  ceremony 
with  me.  It  may  contain  important  papers  — 
something  relating  to  Church  or  State.  I  am 
only  a  young  woman.  Open  it,  Squire." 

"Well,  then,  if  you  say  so,  I  will  open  it," 
and  he  began  fumbling  at  the  well-tied  string. 
Annabel  saw  her  opportunity.  In  a  moment 
she  had  slipped  on  to  the  forefinger  of  her  right 
hand  the  lost  ring,  and  the  next  moment  she  had 
gently  pushed  aside  the  Squire's  hands,  and 
was  saying,  "  Let  me  unfasten  the  knots.  I  am 
cleverer  at  that  work  than  you. " 


A  Foolish  Virgin  189 

"To  be  sure  you  are.  There  is  work  little 
fingers  do  better  than  big  ones,  and  this  is  that 
kind  of  a  job.  But  I  will  get  my  knife  and  cut 
the  knots;  that  is  the  best  and  quickest  way." 

He  began  to  hunt  in  his  pockets  for  his  knife, 
but  could  not  find  it.  "  Dobson  never  does  put 
things  where  they  ought  to  be,"  he  said  fretfully ; 
and  then  he  pulled  the  bell-rope  for  Dobson  with 
a  force  that  fully  indicated  his  annoyance.  In 
the  mean  time,  Annabel  was  quietly  untying  the 
string,  and  the  Squire  naturally  watched  her 
efforts.  He  was  complaining  and  scolding  his 
servant  and  his  womenkind,  and  Annabel  did 
not  heed  him;  but  when  he  suddenly  stopped 
speaking,  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  she  looked 
into  his  face.  It  expressed  the  blankest  wonder 
and  curiosity.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her 
hands,  and  he  would  probably  have  asked  her 
some  inconvenient  question  if  Dobson  had  not 
entered  at  the  moment.  Then  Annabel  retired. 
Dobson  had  taken  the  parcel  in  charge,  and  she 
excused  herself  from  further  delay. 

"I  have  several  things  to  do,"  she  said,  "and 
I  shall  only  be  in  the  way  of  the  parcel  and  its 
contents.  Tell  Mrs.  Atheling  and  Kate  that  I 
called,  will  you,  Squire  ?  " 

"To  be  sure!  To  be  sure,  Miss  Vyner,"  he 
answered ;  but  his  eyes  were  on  the  papers  Dob- 
son  was  unfolding,  and  his  mind  was  vaguely 
wandering  to  the  ring  he  had  seen  on  her  finger. 
When  he  had  satisfied  his  curiosity  concerning 


I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

the  papers,  his  thoughts  returned  with  persis- 
tent wonder  to  it.  "I  '11  wager  my  best  hunter, 
yes,  I  '11  wager  Flying  Selma  that  was  the  ring  I 
bought  in  Venice  and  gave  to  Maude.  How 
did  that  girl  get  it  ?  Maude  would  never  sell  it 
or  give  it  away.  Never !  Dalit!  there  is  some- 
thing queer  in  her  having  it.  I  must  find  out 
how  it  comes  to  pass." 

When  he  arrived  at  this  decision  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing  came  into  the  room.  She  was  rosy  and 
smiling,  and  put  aside  with  sweet  good  nature 
the  Squire's  complaints  about  both  her  and  Kitty 
being  out  of  the  house  when  he  was  in  it. 
"  Not  a  soul  to  say  a  word  to  me,  or  to  see  that  I 
had  a  bit  of  comfortable  eating,"  he  said  in  a 
tone  of  injury. 

"  Never  mind,  John  ! " 

"Oh,  but  I  do  mind!  I  mind  a  great  deal, 
Maude." 

"You  see,  it  was  Kitty  wanted  me.  She  had 
to  have  a  new  clasp  to  the  pearl  necklace  your 
mother  left  her;  and  she  was  sure  you  would 
like  me  to  choose  it,  so  I  went  with  her.  I 
thought  we  should  certainly  be  home  before  you 
got  back. " 

"Well,  never  mind,  then.  Nothing  suits  me 
so  much  as  to  see  Kitty  suited.  I  hope  you 
bought  a  clasp  good  enough  for  the  necklace. " 

"  I  did  not  forget  that  she  was  going  with  you 
to-morrow  night." 

"  But  you  are  going  too,  Maude  ?  " 


A  Foolish  Virgin  191 

"  Nay,  I  am  not.  When  I  can  shut  my  ears  as 
easy  as  my  eyes,  I  can  afford  to  be  less  particular 
about  the  company  I  keep.  I  know  beforehand 
what  the  women  in  that  crowd  will  say  about 
their  own  danger,  and  about  the  murmuring  poor 
who  won't  starve  in  peace,  and  I  know  that  I 
would  be  sure  to  answer  them  with  a  little  bit 
of  plain  truth." 

"And  the  truth  is  not  always  pleasant,  eh, 
Maude?" 

"In  this  case  I  'm  sure  it  wouldn't  be  pleas- 
ant. So,  then,  the  outside  of  Richmoor  House 
is  the  best  side  for  me." 

"I  must  say  I'm  getting  a  bit  tired  myself 
of  the  Duke's  masterful  way,  and  of  his  ever- 
lasting talk  about  the  '  noble  memories  of  the 
past. '  " 

"Then  tell  him,  John,  that  the  noble  hopes  of 
the  future  are  something  better  than  the  noble 
memories  of  the  past.  The  country  is  in  a  bad 
condition  as  ever  was.  Something  must  be  done, 
and  done  quickly." 

"I  'm  saying  nothing  to  the  contrary,  Maude. 
But  even  if  Reform  was  right,  it  cannot  be  car- 
ried. We  must  drive  the  nail  that  will  go. 
That  is  only  good  common-sense,  Maude." 

"  Mark  my  words,  John.  Reform  will  have  to 
come,  and  better  now  than  later.  That  which 
fools  do  in  the  end,  wise  men  do  in  the  beginning. 
I  know,  I  know." 

"  On  this  subject  thou  knowest  nothing  what- 


192    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

ever,  Maude.  Now,  then,  I  am  going  to  have  a 
bit  of  sleep.  But  I  will  say  thus  far  —  as  soon 
as  ever  I  am  sure  that  I  am  on  a  wrong  road  I 
won't  go  a  step  further.  John  Atheling  is  not 
the  man  to  carry  a  candle  for  the  devil." 

With  these  words  he  threw  his  bandana 
handkerchief  over  his  head,  adding,  "  He  hoped 
now  he  had  a  '  right '  to  a  bit  of  sleep."  Then 
Mrs.  Atheling  went  softly  out  of  the  room. 
There  was  a  tolerant  smile  on  her  face,  for  she 
was  not  deceived  by  the  Squire's  habit  of  digni- 
fying his  self-assertions  and  his  self-indulgences 
with  the  name  of  "rights." 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned    193 


CHAPTER  TENTH 

TROUBLE  COMES  UNSUMMONED 

NEVER  had  the  ducal  palace  of  Richmoor  been 
more  splendidly  prepared  for  festivity  than  on  the 
night  of  the  first  of  March,  1831.  And  yet  every 
guest  present  knew  that  it  was  not  a  festival,  but  a 
gathering  of  men  and  women  moved  by  the 
gravest  fears  for  the  future.  The  long  suites  of 
parlours,  brilliantly  lighted,  were  crowded  with 
peers  and  noble  ladies,  wearing,  indeed,  the  smiles 
of  conventional  pleasure ;  but  all  of  them  eager  to 
discuss  the  portentous  circumstances  by  which 
they  were  environed. 

Annabel  stood  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Duchess, 
but  was  strangely  distrait  and  silent.  Everything 
had  gone  wrong  with  her.  It  had  been  a  day  of 
calamity.  She  began  it  with  a  fret  and  a  scold, 
and  her  maid  Justine  had  been  from  that  moment 
in  a  temper  calculated  to  provoke  to  extremities 
her  impatient  mistress.  Then  her  costume  did 
not  arrive  till  some  hours  after  it  was  due ;  and 
when  examined,  it  was  found  to  be  very  unbecom- 
ing. She  had  been  persuaded  to  select  a  pale- 
blue  satin,  simply  because  she  had  tired  of  every 
other  colour;  and  she  was  disgusted  with  the 
13 


194    I>  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

effect  of  its  cold  beauty  against  her  olive-tinted 
skin.  She  wore  out  Justine's  temper  with  the 
variety  of  her  suggestions,  and  her  angry  impa- 
tience with  every  effort.  The  girl  became  sulkily 
silent,  then  defiantly  silent,  then,  after  a  most 
unreasonable  burst  of  anger,  actively  impertinent, 
so  much  so  that  she  left  Annabel  only  one  way 
of  retaliation  —  an  instant  dismissal.  She  lifted 
her  purse  passionately,  counted  out  the  money 
due,  and,  pushing  it  contemptuously  towards  the 
girl,  told  her  "  to  leave  the  house  instantly." 

To  her  utter  amazement,  Justine  pushed  back 
the  money.  "  I  will  not  take  it,"  she  said.  "  I 
have  no  intention  of  leaving  the  house  until  I  see 
the  ring  in  your  possession  —  the  ring  in  your 
purse,  Miss  —  returned  to  the  owner  of  it." 

If  Annabel  had  been  struck  to  the  ground,  she 
could  not  have  been  more  confounded  and  be- 
wildered ;  and  Justine  saw  and  pushed  her  advan- 
tage. "  Miss  knows,"  she  continued,  "  that  police 
detectives  are  watching  night  and  day  the  inno- 
cent men  whose  duties  are  on  this  corridor. 
Any  hour  some  little  thing  may  cause  one  of 
them  to  be  suspected  and  arrested ;  and  then 
who  but  I  could  save  him  from  the  gallows? 
No,  Miss,  I  shall  not  leave  till  you  give  up  the 
ring  —  till  the  real  th  —  the  real  taker  of  it  is 
known." 

These  words  terrified  Annabel.  She  felt  her 
heart  stop  beating;  a  strange  sickness  over- 
whelmed her;  she  sunk  speechless  into  a  chair, 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned    195 

and  closed  her  eyes.  With  an  attention  utterly 
devoid  of  sympathy,  Justine  put  between  her  lips 
a  tea-spoonful  of  aniseed  cordial  which  she 
brought  from  her  own  apartment. 

In  a  few  minutes  Annabel  recovered  herself 
physically;  but  her  prostration,  and  the  hyster- 
ical mood  which  followed  it,  were  admissions  she 
could  not  by  any  future  word,  or  act,  contradict. 
She  had  been  taken  by  surprise,  and  surrendered. 
If  she  had  had  but  ten  minutes  to  survey  the 
situation,  she  would  have  defied  it;  but  such  an 
emergency  had  never  occurred  to  her.  Over 
and  over  again  she  had  supposed  every  other 
likelihood  of  discovery ;  this  one,  never  !  She  was 
at  the  mercy  of  her  maid ;  but  for  the  time  being 
the  maid  was  not  inclined  to  extremities.  She 
only  insisted  that  Annabel  should  use  her  influ- 
ence to  place  the  men  under  suspicion  out  of 
the  danger  of  arrest;  and  when  Annabel  had 
explained,  with  a  wretched  little  laugh,  that  the 
ring  had  been  taken  "  as  a  means  of  forwarding  her 
love-affair  with  Lord  Exham,"  the  maid  assured 
her  "  she  was  on  her  side  in  that  matter."  Then 
she  pocketed  the  sovereigns  Annabel  offered  as 
a  peace  gift,  and  "  hoped  Miss  would  think  no 
more  of  what  she  had  said." 

But  Annabel  could  not  dismiss  the  subject. 
Under  her  magnificent  but  singularly  unbecom- 
ing gown,  she  carried  a  heart  heavy  with  appre- 
hension. The  shadow  of  the  gallows,  which 
Justine  had  evoked  for  the  suspected  culprit,  fell 


196     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

upon  her  own  consciousness.  In  those  days, 
the  most  trifling  theft  was  punished  with  death ; 
and  Annabel  had  a  terror  of  that  mysterious  Law 
of  which  she  was  so  profoundly  ignorant.  How 
it  would  regard  her  position,  she  could  not  imag- 
ine. Would  even  her  confession  and  restoration 
exonerate  her?  In  this  respect,  she  suffered 
from  fright,  as  an  ignorant  child  suffers.  Besides 
which,  when  the  subject  of  "  confession "  came 
close  to  her,  she  felt  that  it  was  impossible. 
Constantly  she  had  flattered  her  conscience  with 
this  promise ;  but  if  it  was  to  come  to  actuality, 
she  thought  she  would  rather  die. 

So  it  was  with  a  wretched  heart  she  took  the 
place  the  Duchess  had  assigned  her  at  her  own 
right  hand.  This  position  associated  her  inti- 
mately with  Lord  Exham,  and  it  was  for  this 
very  reason  the  Duchess  had  decided  upon  it. 
She  knew  the  value  of  the  popular  voice;  she 
wished  the  popular  voice  to  unite  Lord  Exham 
and  her  rich  and  beautiful  ward ;  and  she  felt 
sure  that  their  association  at  her  right  hand 
would  give  all  the  certainty  necessary  to  such  a 
belief.  Heart-sick  with  her  strange,  new  terror, 
Annabel  stood  in  that  brilliant  throng.  Just 
before  the  dinner  hour,  she  saw  Squire  Atheling 
and  Kate  approaching  to  pay  their  respects  to 
the  Duchess.  She  saw  also  the  quick,  joyful 
lifting  of  Exham's  eyelids,  the  bright  flush  of 
pleasure  that  gave  sudden  life  to  his  pale  cheeks, 
and  the  irrepressible  gladness  that  made  his 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned     197 

voice  musical,  as  he  said  softly,  "  How  beautiful 
she  is ! " 

"Miss  Atheling?" 

"  Yes." 

Then  Annabel  considered  her  rival's  approach. 
Her  eyes  fell  first  on  the  Squire,  whose  splendid 
physique  arrested  every  one's  attention.  He 
wore  a  coat  of  dark-blue  broadcloth,  trimmed 
with  gold  buttons,  a  long,  white  satin  vest,  and 
exquisitely  fine  linen,  rather  ostentatiously  ruffled. 
On  his  arm  Kate's  hand  just  rested.  Her  gown 
of  rich  white  silk  was  soft  as  lawn,  and  resplen- 
dent as  moonbeams ;  and  around  her  throat  lay 
one  string  of  Oriental  pearls.  Her  bright,  brown 
hair  was  dressed  high,  without  any  ornament; 
but  there  were  silver  buckles,  set  with  pearls,  on 
the  front  of  her  white  satin  sandals.  A  pause,  a 
murmur  of  admiration  was  perceptible ;  for  con- 
versation ceased  a  moment  as  a  creature  so  fresh, 
so  pure,  so  exquisite,  and  so  suitably  protected, 
moved  among  them.  Lord  Exham,  forgetting 
all  ceremonies,  went  eagerly  forward  to  meet 
these  favoured  guests ;  and  the  Duchess  also  had 
a  momentary  pleasure  in  Kate's  well-gowned 
loveliness.  She  was  very  friendly  to  the  Squire ; 
and  she  took  his  daughter  under  her  own  pro- 
tection. 

After  dinner  —  which  was  specially  early  for 
that  night  —  the  majority  of  the  gentlemen  went 
to  the  House.  The  Reform  Bill,  about  which  all 
England  was  in  agonising  suspense,  was  to  be 


198     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

read  for  the  first  time.  Never,  within  the  mem- 
ory of  Englishmen,  had  there  been  so  great  a 
crowd  eager  to  get  into  the  House.  Every  inch 
of  space  on  the  floor  was  filled;  and  troops  of 
eager  politicians,  from  all  parts  of  the  country, 
were  waiting  at  the  doors  of  the  various  galleries. 
When  they  were  opened,  the  clamour,  the 
struggle,  and  the  confusion  was  so  indescribable 
that  the  Speaker  threatened  to  have  all  the  gal- 
leries cleared.  Even  among  the  members,  there 
was  great  confusion  and  complaining;  for  their 
seats,  though  marked  with  their  cards,  had  in 
many  instances  been  taken  by  others. 

Outside,  the  streets  were  packed  with  men 
wrought  up  to  feverish  excitement  and  anxiety; 
and  in  all  the  great  centres  of  society,  and  in 
every  club  in  London,  there  were  restless  crowds 
waiting  for  news  from  Westminster.  The  Duchess 
of  Richmoor's  parlours  were  the  central  point  of 
Tory  interest.  Not  one  of  the  company  there 
present  but  believed  with  Sir  Robert  Inglis  — 
an  orator  of  their  party  —  that  "  Reform  would 
sweep  the  House  of  Lords  clear  in  ten  years." 
This  night  was,  to  them,  their  salvation  or  their 
ruin.  Below  their  jewelled  bodices,  their  hearts 
trembled  with  anxious  terror.  After  the  depart- 
ure of  the  members  for  the  House,  they  gathered 
in  little  knots,  wondering,  and  fearing,  and  listen- 
ing to  the  noises  in  the  crowded  streets,  with  an 
agitation  not  quite  devoid  of  pleasurable  stimula- 
tion. For  they  were  not  without  comforters  and 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned    199 

encouragers.  The  Duke  of  Wellington  went 
from  group  to  group,  assuring  them  that  Lord 
Grey's  Ministry  must  go  down,  and  that  no 
Reform  Bill  which  could  injure  the  nobility  would 
be  permitted  to  pass  the  House  of  Lords. 

Annabel  was  almost  glad  to  see  every  one  so 
unhappy.  She  had  a  perverse  desire  to  say  con- 
tradictious things.  Her  heart  was  heavy  with 
fear,  and  it  was  burning  with  envy  and  jealousy. 
Kate's  beauty,  and  Lord  Exham's  undisguised 
admiration,  made  her  realise  all  the  bitterness  of 
failure.  She  wandered  about  making  evil  proph- 
ecies, or  saying  irritating  truths,  and  watching 
Kate  the  while,  till  she  was  ready  to  cry  out  with 
mental  pain  and  mortification.  For  the  great 
Duke  —  never  insensible  to  female  loveliness  — 
had  given  Kate  his  arm,  and  was  walking  about 
the  parlours  with  her.  Why  had  such  honour 
not  fallen  to  her  lot?  Never  had  she  been  so 
desirous  to  lead,  to  be  admired,  to  enforce  her 
eminent  fitness  to  wear  the  Richmoor  coronet. 
Never  had  she  so  signally  failed.  Even  her  wit 
had  deserted  her;  she  said  malapropos  clever 
things,  and  got  snubbed  for  them.  In  her  anger, 
and  fear,  and  disappointment,  she  wished  Reform 
might  make  a  clean  sweep  of  such  a  selfish  crowd 
of  so-called  nobility.  She  had  arrived  at  that 
point  when  her  misery  demanded  company. 

About  ten  o'clock,  the  Duke  and  Lord  Exham 
returned.  The  large  lofty  rooms,  with  their 
moving  throngs  of  splendidly  attired  men  and 


2OO     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

women,  were  yet  crowded ;  but  their  atmosphere 
was  charged  with  an  electric  tension,  generated  by 
the  unusual  pitch  to  which  every  one's  thoughts, 
and  feelings,  and  words  were  set.  Many  were  al- 
most hysterical;  some  had  subsided  into  mere 
waiting,  conscious  of  requiring  all  their  strength 
for  simple  endurance  of  the  suspense;  others, 
more  hopeful,  were  restless  and  watching,  —  but 
all  alike  became  instantly  and  breathlessly  silent 
as  the  two  men  appeared.  For  a  moment  no  one 
spoke ;  then  the  Duke  of  Wellington  asked,  with 
an  assumption  of  cheerfulness,  "What  news?  Has 
the  Bill  been  read  ?  " 

"  It  has  been  read,"  answered  Richmoor. 
"  Lord  John  Russell  introduced  it  in  a  speech 
lasting  more  than  two  hours." 

"  And  pray  what  are  its  provisions." 

"  This  infamous  Bill  proposes  that  every  bor- 
ough of  less  than  two  thousand  inhabitants  shall 
lose  the  right  to  send  a  member  to  Parliament." 

"  What  a  scandalous  robbery  of  our  privi- 
leges !  "  ejaculated  some  one  of  the  listeners. 

"  It  is  nothing  else  !  "  answered  the  Duke.  "It 
robs  me  of  the  gift  of  seven  boroughs." 

"  What  excuse  did  he  make  for  such  an  act?  " 

"  He  supposed  the  case  of  a  stranger,  coming 
to  England  to  investigate  our  method  of  repre- 
sentation, being  taken  to  a  green  mound,  and 
told  that  green  mound  sent  two  members  to 
Parliament ;  or  to  a  stone  wall  with  three  niches 
in  it,  and  told  that  those  three  niches  sent  two 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned    201 

members  to  Parliament;  or  to  a  green  park  with 
no  signs  of  human  habitation,  and  told  that  green 
park  sent  two  members  to  Parliament;  and  then 
pictured  the  amazement  of  the  stranger  at  this 
condition  of  things.  '  But,'  he  cried,  '  how  much 
greater  would  be  his  amazement  if  he  were  then 
taken  to  large  and  populous  cities,  full  of  in- 
dustry, enterprise,  and  intelligence,  and  contain- 
ing vast  magazines  of  every  kind  of  manufactures, 
and  was  then  told  that  these  cities  did  not  send 
a  single  man  to  represent  their  rights  and  their 
necessities  in  the  great  national  council.'  It  was 
really  a  very  effective  passage." 

"  We  have  heard  that  argument  before ;  it  is 
stale  and  unprofitable,"  said  the  Duchess. 

"  Listen !  This  Bill  proposes  to  give  every 
man  paying  taxes  for  houses  of  the  yearly  value 
of  ten  pounds  and  upward  —  a  vote" 

"  What  an  absurdity  !  " 

"  It  proposes  to  give  Manchester,  Birmingham, 
Leeds,  Sheffield,  and  three  other  large  towns, 
each  two  members,  and  London  eight  additional 
members." 

"  Infamous  !   It  will  give  us  a  mob  government" 

"This  so-called  Reform  Bill  gives  the  fran- 
chise to  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  people 
in  the  counties  of  England  who  never  had  it 
before ;  in  the  provincial  towns,  it  gives  it  to  fifty 
thousand ;  in  London,  it  gives  it  to  ninety-five 
thousand  ;  in  Scotland,  to  fifty  thousand  ;  and  in 
Ireland,  to  forty  thousand :  in  all,  half  a  million 


2O2     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

of  persons  are  to  be  added  to  the  constituency 
of  the  House  of  Commons." 

At  this  information  the  tendency  of  the  whole 
company  was  to  laughter.  Indeed  the  Duke's 
face,  and  voice,  and  manner  was  that  of  a  man 
telling  an  utterly  absurd  story.  Such  sweeping 
alterations  were  not  conceivable ;  their  very  ex- 
cess doomed  them  to  ridicule  and  failure,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  privileged  class;  but  the  Duke 
of  Wellington's  face  expressed  an  anxiety  not  con- 
sonant with  this  feeling  ;  and  he  asked  gloomily : 

"  Did  Lord  John  Russell  dare  to  read  the  names 
of  the  boroughs  he  intends  to  disfranchise,  with 
their  members  present?" 

"  He  read  them  with  the  greatest  emphasis  and 
deliberation." 

"  And  the  result  ?  What  was  the  result  ?  How 
did  they  take  being  robbed  of  their  seats  in  this 
summary  way?  " 

"  The  excitement  in  the  House  was  incredible. 
He  was  derisively  interrupted  by  shouts  of 
laughter,  and  by  cries  of  "  Hear !  Hear  !  "  and  by 
constant  questions  across  the  table  from  the 
members  of  those  boroughs.  The  wisest  states- 
men in  the  House  were  aghast  at  proposals  so 
sweeping  and  so  revolutionary." 

"What  did  Peel  say?  " 

"  Nothing.  He  sat  rigid  as  a  statue,  his  face 
working  with  emotion,  his  brow  wrinkled  and 
sombre.  His  supporters,  who  were  gathered 
round  him,  burst  again  and  again  into  uncon- 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned    203 

trollable  laughter.  Pe'el  tried  to  make  them 
behave  like  gentlemen,  and  could  not.  Every 
one  is  sure  such  a  measure  predicts  a  speedy 
downfall  of  Grey's  Ministry." 

"  Of  course  it  does,"  said  the  Duchess,  with  a 
contemptuous  laugh.  The  laugh  was  contagious, 
and  the  majority  of  the  company  burst  into 
merriment  and  ridicule. 

"  It  is  really  a  good  joke,"  said  an  aged  Mar- 
quis who  had  the  idea  that  England  was  the 
birthright  of  her  nobles. 

"A  good  joke  !  "  answered  the  Duke  of  Well- 
ington, sternly.  "  I  can  tell  you  it  is  no  joke. 
You  will  find  it  no  laughing  matter." 

"  I  am  weary  of  it  all,"  whispered  Annabel  to 
Kate ;  "  let  us  go  into  the  conservatory."  Kate 
was  willing  also,  and  as  they  entered  the  sweet, 
green  place,  with  its  tender  lights  and  restful 
peace,  she  sighed  with  pleasure  and  said,  "  I 
wonder,  Annabel,  if  the  roses  and  camellias  think 
themselves  better  than  the  violets  and  daisies." 

"  I  dare  say  they  do.  Let  us  sit  down  here. 
I  have  had  such  a  wretched  day,  and  I  am  worn 
out ;  "  and  for  a  moment,  as  she  looked  in  Kate's 
gentle  face,  she  had  a  mind  to  tell  her  the  whole 
truth  about  the  unfortunate  ring.  But  while  she 
hesitated,  there  was  a  footstep;  and  in  a  moment, 
Piers  pushed  aside  the  fronds  of  the  gigantic 
ferns  and  joined  them. 

"  It  is  allowable,"  said  Annabel,  "  provided 
you  do  do  not  mention  Reform." 


204     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"There  is  no  necessity  here,"  he  answered 
gallantly.  "  How  could  perfection  be  reformed  ?" 
Gradually  the  conversation  fell  into  a  more 
serious  mood,  and  they  began  to  speak  of  York- 
shire, and  to  long  after  its  breezy  wolds  and 
lovely  dales ;  and  Annabel  listened  and  said,  "  She 
would  be  delighted  when  they  went  down  there." 
Kate  also  acknowledged  that  she  was  impatient 
to -return  to  Atheling;  and  Piers  watched  her 
every  movement,  —  the  smile  parting  her  lips, 
the  light  coming  and  going  on  her  cheeks  from 
dropped  or  lifted  eyes,  the  graceful  movements  of 
her  hands,  the  noble  poise  of  her  head,— all 
these  things  were  fresh  enchantments  to  him. 
What  was  the  noisy,  dusty  Senate  chamber  to 
this  green  spot  filled  with  the  charming  presence 
of  the  woman  he  adored  ? 

Very  quickly  Annabel  perceived  that  she  was 
the  one  person  not  necessary;  and  she  was  too 
depressed  to  resent  this  position.  With  a  whis- 
per to  Kate,  she  went  away,  promising  to  return 
in  ten  minutes.  She  did  not  return ;  but  in  half 
an  hour- — which  had  seemed  as  five  minutes  — 
the  Duchess  came  in  her  stead,  and  said  blandly, 
"  Annabel  has  a  headache,  and  has  gone  to  sleep 
it  away.  I  have  sent  the  Squire  home,  Miss 
Atheling;  I  told  him  I  should  keep  you  here 
to-night.  Indeed  he  was  glad  for  you  to  remain; 
the  streets  are  not  in  a  very  pleasant  condition. 
London  has  lost  its  senses.  It  has  gone  mad ; 
in  the  morning  it  may  be  saner." 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned    205 

So  the  sweet  interval  was  over ;  but  one  secret 
glance  between  the  lovers  showed  how  delicious 
it  had  been.  Kate  went  away  with  the  Duchess; 
and  waiting  women  led  her  to  a  splendid  sleep- 
ing apartment.  There,  all  night  long,  she  kept 
the  sense  of  Piers  holding  her  hand  in  his ;  and, 
faintly  smiling  with  this  interior  bliss,  she 
dreamed  away  the  hours  until  late  in  the 
morning. 

Her  first  thought  on  awakening  was,  "What 
shall  I  wear?  I  cannot  go  to  breakfast  in  a  white 
silk  gown."  Then,  as  she  rose,  she  saw  a  street 
costume  laid  ready  for  her  use.  "  Mrs.  Atheling 
sent  it  very  early  this  morning,"  said  the  maid; 
and  Kate  thought  with  a  blessing  of  the  good 
mother  who  never  forgot  her  smallest  necessities. 
At  breakfast,  the  Duchess  was  particularly  gra- 
cious to  her;  she  affected  an  entire  oblivion  of 
Piers's  evident  devotion,  and  talked  incessantly  of 
the  stupidity  of  the  Grey  Ministry;  but  as  she 
rose  from  the  table,  she  said,  — 

"  My  dear  Miss  Atheling,  will  you  do  me  the 
favour  to  come  to  my  private  parlour  before  you 
leave?" 

V 

Kate  stood  up,  curtsied  slightly,  and  made  the 
required  promise.  But  she  did  not  at  once 
attend  the  Duchess,  as  that  lady  certainly  ex- 
pected. She  had  promised  Piers  to  walk  with 
him  in  the  conservatory,  and  finish  their  inter- 
rupted conversation  of  the  previous  night ;  and 
a  gentle  pressure  of  her  hand  reminded  her  of 


206     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

this  previous  engagement.  So  it  was  near  the 
noon  hour  when  she  went  to  the  room  which 
the  Duchess  had  selected  for  their  interview. 

She  entered  it  without  a  suspicion  of  the  sor- 
row waiting  there  for  her,  though  the  first  glance 
at  the  cold,  haughty  face  that  greeted  her  made 
her  a  little  indignant.  "  I  expected  you  an  hour 
ago,  Miss  Atheling,"  said  the  Duchess. 

"  I  am  sorry  if  I  have  detained  you,  Duchess. 
I  did  not  think  my  interview  with  you  could  be 
of  much  importance." 

"  Perhaps  not  as  important  to  you  as  the 
interview  you  put  before  it — and  yet,  perhaps, 
far  more  so.  For  I  must  tell  you  that  such  en- 
tirely personal  companionship  with  Lord  Exham, 
must  cease  from  this  very  hour." 

Kate  had  taken  the  seat  the  Duchess  indicated 
on  her  entering  the  room ;  she  now  rose  to  her 
feet,  and  answered,  "  If  so,  Duchess,  it  is  proper 
for  me  to  leave  your  home  at  once.  My  mother 
is  waiting  to  see  me.  She  will  tell  me  what  it 
is  right  for  me  to  do." 

"  In  this  case,  I  am  a  better  adviser  than  your 
mother.  I  believe  you  to  be  a  girl  of  noble 
principles,  so  I  tell  you  frankly  that  Lord  Exham 
is  bound,  by  every  honourable  tie,  to  marry  Miss 
Vyner.  When  you  are  not  present,  he  is  quite 
happy  in  her  society ;  when  you  are  present,  you 
seem  to  exert  some  unaccountable  influence  over 
him.  Miss  Vyner  has  often  complained  of  this. 
I  thought  it  was  simple  jealousy  on  her  part, 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned    207 

until  I  observed  you  with  Lord  Exham  last  night. 
I  am  now  compelled,  by  my  duty  to  my  son  and 
his  affianced  wife,  to  tell  you  how  impossible  a  mar- 
riage between  you  and  Lord  Exham  is  and  must 
be.  I  believe  this  information  to  be  all  that  is 
necessary  to  a  girl  of  your  birth  and  breeding." 

"  What  information,  Duchess?  "  She  asked  the 
question  with  a  dignity  that  irritated  a  woman 
who  thought  her  word,  without  her  reasons,  was 
quite  sufficient. 

"  If  you  persist  in  having  the  truth,  I  must  give 
it  to  you.  Remember,  I  would  gladly  have 
spared  you  and  myself  this  humiliation.  Know, 
then,  that  many  years  ago  the  late  General 
Vyner  rendered  the  Duke  a  great  service.  When 
Annabel  was  born,  the  Duke  offered  himself  as 
her  godfather  and  guardian,  and  his  son  as  her 
husband.  It  is  not  necessary  to  go  into  details ; 
the  facts  ought  to  be  sufficient  for  you.  There 
are  circumstances  which  make  the  fulfilment  of 
this  promise  imperative;  and,  if  you  do  not  inter- 
fere, my  son  will  very  willingly  perform  his  part 
of  it.  Pardon  me  if  I  also  remind  you  that  your 
birth  and  fortune  make  any  hopes  you  may  enter- 
tain of  being  the  future  Duchess  of  Richmoor 
very  presumptuous  hopes.  I  assure  you  that  I 
have  spoken  reluctantly,  and  with  sincere  kind- 
ness ;  and  I  do  not  desire  this  conversation  to  in- 
terfere with  our  future  intercourse.  If  you  will 
give  me  your  promise,  I  know  that  I  may  trust 
you  absolutely." 


2o8     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  What  do  you  wish  me  to  promise?  " 

"  That  you  will  allow  no  love-making  between 
Lord  Exham  and  yourself;  that  you  will  not  in 
any  way  interfere  between  Lord  Exham  and  Miss 
Vyner,  —  in  fact,  promise  me,  in  a  word,  that  you 
will  never  marry  Lord  Exham.  I  assure  you, 
such  a  marriage  would  be  most  improper  and 
unfortunate." 

Kate  stood  for  a  moment  still  and  white  as  a 
marble  statue;  and  when  she  spoke,  her  words 
dropped  slowly  and  with  an  evident  effort.  And 
yet  her  self-control  and  dignity  of  manner  was  re- 
markable, as  she  answered,  — 

"  Duchess,  I  have  always  done  exactly  what 
my  dear  wise  father  and  mother  have  told  me  to 
do.  I  shall  ask  their  advice  on  this  matter  before 
I  make  any  promise.  If  they  tell  me  to  do  as 
you  wish  me  to  do,  I  shall  know  that  they  are 
right,  and  obey  them.  I  do  not  recognise  any 
other  human  authority  than  theirs." 

She  was  leaving  the  room  after  these  words ; 
but  the  Duchess  cried  angrily,  "  Your  father  must 
not  at  present  be  asked  to  interfere.  There  are 
interests  —  grave,  political  interests  —  between 
him  and  the  Duke  that  cannot  be  imperilled 
for  some  love-nonsense  between  you  and  Lord 
Exham." 

"  There  are  no  grave  political  interests  between 
my  mother  and  the  Duke;  and  I  shall,  at  all 
events,  take  my  mother's  counsel." 

She  had  stood  with  the  door  open  in  her  hand ; 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned    209 

she  now  passed  outside.  So  far  she  had  kept 
herself  from  any  exhibition  of  feeling;  but,  oh, 
how  wronged  and  unhappy  and  offended  she  felt ! 
She  went  down  and  down  the  splendid  stairway, 
erect  as  a  reed  ;  but  her  heart  was  like  a  wounded 
bird  :  it  fluttered  wildly  in  her  bosom,  and  would 
not  be  comforted  until  she  reached  that  nest  of 
all  nests,  —  her  mother's  breast. 

There  she  poured  out  all  her  grief  and  indig- 
nation ;  and  Mrs.  Atheling  never  interrupted  the 
relation  by  a  single  word.  She  clasped  the  weep- 
ing girl  to  her  heart,  and  stroked  her  hands,  and 
soothed  her  in  those  tender  little  ways  that  are 
closer  and  sweeter  than  any  words  can  be.  But 
when  Kate  had  wept  her  passionate  sense  of 
wrong  and  affront  away,  the  good  mother  with- 
drew herself  a  little,  and  began  to  question  her 
child. 

"  Let  me  understand  plainly,  Kitty  dear,"  she 
said.  "Her  Grace- — Grace  indeed ! —  wishes 
you  to  promise  her  that  you  will  give  up  Piers 
to  Annabel." 

"  Yes,  Mother." 

"And  that  you  will  never  marry  Piers  under 
any  circumstances?" 

"  Yes,  Mother." 

"  And  she  thinks  you  '  presumptuous  '  in  hop- 
ing to  marry  her  son?" 

"Yes,  dear  Mother.  She  said  '  presumptuous. ' 
Am  I;  ought  I  to  do'1  as  she  wishes  me?  Oh,  I 
cannot  give  up  Piers!  Only  this  morning  he 
14 


2io     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

told  me  that  he  would  never  marry  any  woman 
but  me." 

"  Have  I  or  your  good  father  told  you  to  give 
up  Piers?" 

"  No,  Mother." 

"When  we  do,  you  will  of  course  know  we 
have  good  reasons  for  such  an  order,  and  you 
will  give  him  up.  But  as  yet,  father  has  n't  said 
such  a  word ;  and  I  have  n't.  Kitty  darling,  the 
Fifth  Commandment  only  asks  you  to  obey  your 
own  father  and  mother.  Let  the  Duchess  put  the 
'  giving  up  '  where  it  ought  to  be.  Let  her  tell 
her  son  to  give  you  up  —  that  is  quite  as  far  as 
her  authority  extends.  She  has  nothing  to  say 
to  Kate  Atheling;  nor  has  my  little  Kitty  any 
obligation  to  obey  her.  She  must  give  such 
orders  to  Piers  Exham.  It  is  the  duty  of  his 
heart  and  conscience  to  decide  whether  he  will 
obey  or  not." 

"Then  I  can  go  on  loving  him,  Mother,  with- 
out wronging  myself  or  others?" 

"  Go  on  loving  him,  dearie." 

"  He  said  he  was  coming  to  ride  with  me  at 
three  o'clock." 

"  Ride  with  him,  and  be  happy  while  you  can, 
dear  child.  Let  mother  kiss  such  foolish  tears 
away.  I  can  tell  you  father  was  proud  of  your 
beauty  last  night.  He  said  you  were  the  loveliest 
woman  in  London." 

"  The  Duke  of  Wellington  told  me  I  was  a 
beautiful  girl;  and  he  said  many  wise  and  kind 


Trouble  Comes  Unsummoned    211 

things  to  me,  Mother.  What  did  father  think 
about  the  Reform  Bill?"  , 

"  It  troubled  him, Kitty;  it  troubled  him  vej^y 
much.  He  said,  'It  meant  civil  war ; '  but  I  sav& 
'  Nonsense,  John  Atheling,  it  will  prevent  civil 
war.'  And  so  it  will,  dearie.  The  people  wi^ 
have  it,  or  else  they  will  have  far  more.  Youj 
father  said  all  London  was  shouting  till  day- 
break, '  The  Bill !  The  whole  Bill !  Nothing  but 
the  Bill ! '  Now  then,  run  away  and  wash  your 
eyes  bright,  and  put  on  your  habit.  I  '11  warrant 
Piers  outruns  the  clock." 

"  Have  you  seen  Edgar  this  morning?" 

"  For  a  few  minutes  just  before  you  came. 
Cecil  was  with  him.  They  had  been  up  all  night; 
but  Cecil  would  have  stayed  if  Annabel  had  been 
here.  How  he  does  love  that  girl !  " 

"  I  think  she  loves  him.  She  looked  ill  last 
night,  and  I  did  not  see  her  this  morning.  What 
a  tangle  it  is !  Annabel  loves  Cecil  —  Piers  loves 
me  —  and  the  Duchess  — 

"  Never  mind  the  Duchess,  nor  the  tangle 
either,  Kitty.  To-day  is  yours ;  to-morrow  is  not 
born ;  and  you  are  not  told  to  unravel  any  tangle. 
There  are  them  whose  business  it  is;  and  they 
know  all  the  knots  and  snarls,  and  will  wind  the 
ball  all  right  in  the  end." 

"  Oh,  Mother,  how  I  love  you  ! " 

"  Oh,  Kitty,  how  I  love  you  ! " 

"  Piers  loves  me  too,  Mother." 

"  I  '11  warrant  he  does.    Who  could  help  loving 


212     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  Oti£  '• 

thee,  Kitty?  But  men's  love  isn't  mother's  love; 
it  is  a  good  bit  more  selfish.  God  Almighty 
made  thy  father,  John  Atheling,  of  the  best  of  hu- 
man elements ;  but  John  Atheling  'has  his  shabby 
moments.  Piers  Exham  won't  be  different ;  so 
don't  expect  it."  Then  the  two  women  looked 
at  each  other  and  smiled. 
They  understood. 

• 

1 

•  >'>!  " 
m 

' 

<iOrf 

Jiiirlj  I  " 

. 

• 
\-.u! '  •     • 

"!rp 

"!, 

•;   " 

i'f[W    ,'-'^li  -)i!     •  '"I " 


Life  Comes  and  Gods  ,  i 


. 

CHAPTER   ELEVENTH 

. 

"  LIFE  COMES  AND  GOES    THE  OLD,  OLD  WAY !  " 

ANNABEL  had  purposely  kept  out  of  Kitty's 
way.  She  had  more  than  a  suspicion  of  the 
probable  interview  between  the  Duchess  and 
Kitty ;  and  she  wished  to  avoid  any  unpleasant- 
ness with  the  Athelings.  They  gave  her  the 
most  reliable  opportunities  with  Cecil  North ;  and 
besides,  she  was  so  little  of  a  general  favourite 
as  to  have  no  other  acquaintances  as  intimate. 
She  was  also  really  sick  and  unhappy ;  and  the 
first  occurrence  of  the  day  did  not  tend  to  make 
her  less  so.  She  wished  to  see  the  Duke  about 
some  matter  relating  to  her  finances;  and,  as 
soon  as  she  left  her  room,  she  went  to  the  apart- 
ment in  which  she  was  most  likely  to  find  him. 

The  Duke  was  not  there,  but  Squire  Atheling 
was  waiting  for  him.  He  said  he  '•'  had  an 
appointment  at  two  o'clock,"  and  then,  looking 
at  the  time-piece  on  the  mantel,  added,  "  I  always 
give  myself  ten  minutes  or  so  to  come  and  go 
on."  Annabel  knew  this  peculiarity  of  the  Squire, 
and  made  her  little  joke  on  the  matter;  ahdithen 
the  conversation  turned  a  moment  on  Kitty,  and 
her  probable  return  home.  Annabel  assured  the 


214     I*  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Squire  she  had  already  gone  home,  and  then, 
offering  her  hand  in  adieu,  was  about  to  leave 
the  room.  The  little  brown-gemmed  hand  roused 
a  sudden  memory  and  anxiety  in  his  heart.  He 
detained  it,  as  he  said,  "  Miss  Vyner,  I  have  a 
question  to  ask  you.  Do  you  remember  untying 
a  parcel  for  me  the  other  day?  " 

"  I  should  think  so, "  she  replied  with  a  laugh. 
"  A  more  impatient  man  to  do  anything  for  I 
never  saw." 

"  I  am  a  bit  impatient.  But  that  is  not  what 
I  am  thinking  of.  You  wore  a  ring  that  day  — 
a  sapphire  ring  with  a  little  sapphire  padlock  — 
and  that  ring  interests  me  very  much.  Will  you 
tell  me  where  you  got  it?  " 

"  No,  sir.  Even  if  I  knew,  I  might  have  excel- 
lent reasons  for  not  telling  you.  Why,  Squire,  I 
am  astonished  at  your  asking  such  a  question ! 
Rings  have  mostly  a  story  —  a  love-story  too ; 
you  might  be  asking  for  secrets  !  " 

"I  beg  pardon.  To  be  sure  I  might.  But  you 
see  a  ring  exactly  like  the  one  you  wore,  holds 
a  secret  of  my  own." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  mistaken  about  the  ring. 
So  many  rings  look  alike." 

"  I  could  not  be  mistaken.  I  do  wish  you 
would  tell  me  —  I  am  afraid  you  think  me  rude 
and  inquisitive  — 

"  Indeed  I  do,  sir !  And,  if  you  please,  we 
will  forget  this  conversation.  It  is  too  personal 
to  be  pleasant." 


Life  Comes  and  Goes         215 

With  these  words  she  bowed  and  withdrew, 
and  the  Squire  got  up  and  walked  about  the 
room  until  the  Duke  entered  it.  By  that  time,  he 
had  worried  himself  into  an  impatient,  suspicious 
temper,  and  was  touchy  as  tinder  when  his 
political  chief  asked  him  to  sit  down  and  dis- 
cuss the  situation  with  him. 

"  Exham  has  gone  to  see  a  number  of  our 
party;  but  I  thought  I  would  outline  to  you 
personally  the  course  we  intend  to  pursue  with 
regard  to  this  infamous  Bill."  The  Squire  bowed 
but  said  not  a  word ;  and  the  Duke  proceeded, 
"  We  have  resolved  to  worry  and  delay  it  to  the 
death.  In  the  Commons,  the  Opposition  will  go 
over  and  over  the  same  arguments,  and  ask 
again,  and  again,  and  again,  the  same  questions. 
This  course  will  be  continued  week  after  week  — 
month  after  month  if  necessary.  Obstruction, 
Squire,  obstruction,  that  is  the  word  !  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  exactly  by '  obstruction  '  ?  " 

"  I  will  explain.  Lord  Exham  will  move, '  That 
the  Speaker  do  now  leave  the  Chair.'  When  this 
motion  is  lost,  some  other  member  of  the  Oppo- 
sition will  move,  'That  the  debate  be  now  ad- 
journed.' That  being  lost,  some  other  member 
will  again  move,  '  That  the  Speaker  do  now  leave 
the  Chair,'  and  so,  with  alternations  of  these 
motions,  the  whole  night  can  be  passed  —  and 
night  after  night  —  and  day  after  day.  It  is 
quite  a  legitimate  parliamentary  proceeding." 

"  It  may  be,"  answered  the  Squire ;   "  but  I  am 


2i6     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

astonished  at  your  asking  John  Atheling  to  take 
any  part  in  such  ways.  I  will  fight  as  well  as 
any  man,  on  the  square  and  the  open ;  if  I 
cannot  do  this,  I  will  not  fight  at  all.  I  would 
as  soon  worry  a  vixen  fox,  as  run  a  doubling 
race  of  that  kind.  No,  Duke,  I  will  not  worry, 
and  nag,  and  tease,  and  obstruct.  Such  tactics 
are1  fitter  for  <i>i'd  women  than  for  reasoning  men, 
sure  of  a  good  cause,  and  working  to  win  it." 

"  I  did  not  expect  this  obstruction  from  you, 
Squire ;  and,  I  must  say,  I  am  disappointed  — 
very  much  disappointed." 

"I 'don't  know,  Duke  Richmoor,  that  I  have 
ever  given  you  cause  to  think  I  would  fight  in 
any  other  way  than  in  a  square,  stand-up,  face- 
to-face  manner.  Wasting  time  is  not  fighting, 
and  it  is  not  reasoning.  It  is  just  tormenting  an 
angry  and  impatient  nation;  it  is  playing  with 
fire ;  it  is  a  dangerous,  deceitful,  cowardly  bit  of 
business,  and  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  it." 

"You  remember  that  I  gave  you  your  seat?  " 

"  You  can  have  it  back  and  welcome.  I  took 
my  seat  from  you  ;  but  when  it  comes  to  right  and 
wrong,  I  take  orders  only  from  my  own  conscience." 

"  Advice,  Squire,  advice ;  I  did  not  think  of 
giving  you  orders." 

"  Well,  Duke,  I  am  perhaps  a  little  hasty ;  but 
I  do  not  understand  obstructing  warfare.  I  am 
ready  to  attack  the  Bill,  tooth  and  nail.  I  am 
ready  to  vote  against  it;  but  I  do  not  think  what 
you  call  '  obstructing '  is  fair  and  manly." 


Life  Comes  and  Goes         217 


_1B"  All  things  are  fair  in  love  and  war, 

and  this  is  a  war  to  the  knife-hilt  for  our  own 

caste  and  privileges." 

Here  there  was  a  light  tap  at  the  door,  and,  an 
answer  to  the  Duke's  "  enter,"  Annabel  came  in. 
She  said  a  few  words  to  him  in  a  low  voice,  gave 
him  a  paper,  and  disappeared.  But,  short  as  the 
interview  was,  it  put  the  Duke  in  a  good  temper. 
He  looked  after  her  with  pride  and  affection,  and 
said  pleasantly,— 

"  Fight  in  your  own  way,  Squire  Atheling  ; 
it  is  sure  to  be  a  good,  straight-forward  fight. 
But  the  other  way  will  be  the  tactics  of  our  party, 
and  you  need  not  interfere  with  them.  By-the-bye, 
Miss  Vyner  is  a  good  deal  at  your  house,  I 
think." 

"  She  is  always  welcome.  My  daughter  likes 
her  company.  We  all  do.  She  is  both  witty  and 
pretty." 

"  She  is  a  great  beauty  —  a  particularly  noble- 
looking  beauty.  She  will  make  a  fine  Duchess, 
and  my  son  is  most  fortunate  in  such  an  alliance  ; 
for  she  has  money,  —  plenty  of  money,  —  and  a 
dukedom  is.  not  kept  up  on  nothing  a  yean  Per- 
haps, however,  this  Reform  Bill  will  eventually  get 
rid  of  dukedoms  and  dukes,  as  it  proposes  to  do 
with  boroughs  and  members." 

The  Squire  did  not  immediately  answer.  He 
wanted  a  definite  assertion  about  Lord  Exhatn 
and  Miss  Vyner,  and  could  not  decide  on  words 
which  would  unsuspiciously  bring  it.  Finally,  he 


218     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

blurted  out  an  inquiry  as  to  the  date  of  a  mar- 
riage between  them;  and  the  Duke  answered 
carelessly,  — 

"  It  may  occur  soon  or  late.  We  have  not 
yet  fixed  the  time.  Probably  as  soon  as  this 
dreadful  Reform  question  is  settled.  But  as  the 
ceremony  will  surely  take  place  at  the  Castle, 
Atheling  Manor  will  be  an  important  factor  in 
the  event." 

He  was  shifting  and  folding  up  papers  as  he 
spoke,  and  the  Squire /£//,  more  than  understood, 
that  the  interview  had  better  be  closed.  Osten- 
sibly they  parted  friends ;  but  the  Squire  kept 
his  right  hand  across  his  back  as  he  said  "  good- 
morning,"  and  the  Duke  understood  the  meaning 
of  this  action,  though  he  thought  it  best  to  take 
no  notice  of  it. 

"What  a  fractious,  testy,  touchy  fellow  this 
is !  "  he  said  irritably  to  himself,  when  he  was 
alone.  "  A  perfect  John  Bull,  absolutely  sure  of 
his  own  infallibility ;  sure  that  he  knows  everything 
about  everything;  that  he  is  always  right,  and 
always  must  be  right,  and  that  any  one  who  doubts 
his  always  being  right  is  either  a  knave  or  a  fool. 
Tush  !  I  am  glad  I  gave  him  that  thrust  about 
Piers  and  Annabel.  It  hurt.  I  could  see  it  hurt, 
though  he  kept  his  hand  to  cover  the  wound." 

The  Duke  was  quite  right.  Squire  Atheling 
was  hurt.  He  went  straight  home.  In  any  trou- 
ble, his  first  medicine  was  his  wife ;  for  though 
he  pretended  to  think  little  of  her  advice,  he 


Life  Comes  and  Goes         219 

always  took  it  —  or  regretted  that  he  had  not 
taken  it.  He  found  her  half-asleep  in  the  chair 
by  the  window  which  she  had  taken  in  order  to 
watch  Lord  Exham  and  Kitty  ride  down  the 
street  together.  She  was  at  rest  and  happy;  but 
the  Squire's  entrance,  at  an  hour  not  very  usual, 
interested  her.  "  Why,  John !  "  she  asked,  "  what 
has  happened  ?  I  thought  you  went  to  the 
House  at  three  o'clock." 

"  I  have  some  questions  to  ask  in  my  own 
house,  first,"  he  answered.  "  Maude,  I  am  sure 
you  remember  the  ring  I  gave  you  one  night  at 
Belward,  —  the  ring  you  promised  to  marry  me 
on,  the  sapphire  ring  with  the  little  padlock?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  remember  it,  John." 

"  You  used  to  wear  it  night  and  day.  I  have 
not  seen  it  on  your  hand  for  a  long  time." 

"  It  became  too  small  for  me.  I  had  to  take  it 
off.  Whatever  has  brought  it  into  your  thoughts 
at  this  time?" 

"  I  saw  one  just  like  it.  Where  did  you  put 
your  ring?" 

"  In  my  jewel-case." 

"  Is  it  there  now." 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  but  a  life-time  of 
truth  is  not  easily  turned  aside.  "  John,"  she  an- 
swered, "  it  is  not  there.  It  is  gone." 

"  I  thought  so.  Did  you  sell  it  for  Edgar, 
some  time  when  he  wanted  money?" 

"  Edgar  never  asked  me  for  a  shilling.  I  never 
gave  him  a  shilling  unknown  to  you.  And  I  did 


22O     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

not  sell  the  ring  at  all.  I  would  never  have  done 
such  a  thing." 

"  But  I  have  seen  the  ring  on  a  lady's  hand." 

"  Do  you  know  the  lady  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  could  find  her." 

"  I  will  tell  you  about  it,  John.  I  loaned  it  to 
Kitty,  and  Piers  saw  it  and  wanted  one  made  like 
it  for  Kitty,  and  so  he  took  it  away  to  show  it  to 
his  jeweller,  and  lost  it  that  very  night.  He  has 
moved  heaven  and  earth  to  find  it,  but  got 
neither  word  nor  sight  of  it.  You  ought  to  tell 
him  where  you  saw  it." 

"  Not  yet,  Maude." 

"  Tell  me  then." 

"  To  be  sure !  I  saw  it  on  Miss  Vyner's 
hand." 

"  Impossible ! " 

"  Sure !  " 

"But  how?" 

"  Thou  mayst  well  ask  '  how.'  Piers  gave  it 
to  her." 

"I  wouldn't  believe  such  a  thing,  not  on  a 
seven-fold  oath." 

"  Thou  knowest  little  about  men.  There  are 
times  when  they  would  give  their  souls  away. 
Thou  knowest  nothing  about  such  women  as 
Miss  Vyner.  They  have  a  power  that  while  it 
lasts  is  omnipotent.  Antony  lost  a  world  for 
Cleopatra,  and  Herod  would  have  given  half, 
yes,  the  'whole  of  his  kingdom  to  a  dancing 
woman,  if  she  had  asked  him  for  it." 


Life  Comes  and  Goes         221 

"  Those  men  were  pagans,  John,  and  lived  in 
foreign  countries.  Christian  men  in  England  —  " 

"  Christian  men  in  England,  in  proportion  to 
their  power,  do  things  just  as  reckless  and  wicked. 
Piers  Exham  has  never  learned  any  control; 
he  has  always  given  himself,  or  had  given  him, 
whatever  he  wanted.  And  I  can  tell  thee,  there 
is  a  perfect  witchery  about  Miss  Vyner  in  some 
hours.  She  has  met  Exham  in  a  favourable 
time,  and  begged  the  ring  from  him." 

"  I  cannot  believe  it.  Why  should  she  do  such 
a  thing?  She  must  have  had  a  reason." 

"  Certainly  she  had  a  reason.  It  might  be 
pure  mischief,  for  she  is  mischievous  as  a  cat. 
It  might  be  superstition ;  she  is  as  superstitious 
as  an  Hindoo  fakir.  She  has  charms  and  signs 
for  everything.  She  orders  her  very  life  by  the 
stars  of  heaven.  I  have  watched  her,  and  listened 
to  her,  and  never  trusted  her  about  Kitty — not  a 
moment.  Now  this  is  a  secret  between  thee  and 
me.  I  asked  her  to-day  about  the  ring,  and  she 
would  say  neither  this  nor  that;  yet  somehow 
she  gave  me  to  understand  it  was  a  love  token." 

"  She  is  a  liar,  if  she  means  that  Piers  gave  it 
to  her  as  a  love  token.  I  saw  the  young  man 
half  an  hour  ago.  If  ever  a  man  loved  a  maid, 
he  loves  our  Kitty." 

"  Yet  he  is  going  to  marry  Miss  Vyner." 

"  He  is  not.  I  am  sure  he  is  not.  He  will 
marry  Kate  Atheling." 

"The  Duke  told  me  this  afternoon  that  Lord 


222     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Exham  would  marry  Miss  Vyner  as  soon  as  this 
Reform  question  is  settled.  He  said  the  mar- 
riage would  take  place  at  the  Castle." 

"  The  Duke  has  been  talking  false  to  you  for 
some  purpose  of  his  own." 

"  Not  he.  Richmoor  has  faults  —  more  than 
enough  of  them  ;  but  he  treads  his  shoes  straight. 
A  truthful  man,  no  one  can  say  different." 

"  I  would  n't  notice  a  thing  he  said  for  all  that. 
Pass  it  by.  Leave  Kitty  to  manage  her  own 
affairs." 

"  No,  I  will  not !  Thou  must  tell  Kitty  to  give 
the  man  up.  He  is  going  to  marry  another 
woman." 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it." 

"  His  father  said  so.     What  would  you  have?  " 

"  Fathers  don't  know  everything." 

"  Now,  Maude  Atheling,  my  girl  shall  not 
marry  where  she  is  not  wanted.  I  would  rather 
see  her  in  her  death  shroud  than  in  her  wedding 
gown,  if  things  were  in  that  way." 

"  John,  I  have  always  been  open  as  the  day 
with  you,  and  I  will  not  change  now.  The 
Duchess  said  something  like  it  to  Kitty  this  morn- 
ing, so  you  see  there  has  been  a  plan  between 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  to  make  trouble  about 
Piers.  Kitty  came  home  very  troubled." 

"  And  you  let  her  go  out  with  the  man  !  I  am 
astonished  at  you  !  " 

"  She  asked  me  what  she  ought  to  do,  and  I 
told  the  dear  girl  to  be  happy  until  you  told  her 


Life  Comes  and  Goes        223 

to  be  miserable.  If  you  think  it  is  right  to  do 
so,  tell  her  when  she  comes  home  never  to  see 
Piers  again." 

"  You  had  better  tell  her.     I  cannot." 

"  I  cannot,  and  I  will  not,  for  the  life  of  me." 

"  Don't  you  believe  what  I  say  ?  " 

"  Yes  —  with  a  grain  of  salt.  Piers  is  to  hear 
from  yet." 

"  Well,  you  must  speak  to  her,  Mother.  My 
heart  is  too  soft.  It  is  your  place  to  do  it." 

"  My  heart  is  as  soft  as  yours,  John.  I  say, 
let  things  alone.  We  are  going  to  Atheling 
soon —  we  cannot  go  too  soon  now.  If  it  must 
be  told  her,  Kate  will  hear  it,  and  bear  it  best  in 
her  own  home ;  and,  besides,  he  will  not  be  with- 
in calling  distance.  John,  this  thing  cannot  be 
done  in  a  hurry.  God  help  the  dear  girl  —  to 
find  Piers  false  —  to  give  him  up  —  it  will  break 
her  heart,  Father  !  " 

"  Kitty's  heart  is  made  of  better  stuff.  When 
she  finds  out  that  Piers  has  been  false  to  her,  she 
will  despise  him." 

"  She  will  make  excuses  for  him." 

"  No  good  woman  will  care  about  an  unworthy 
man." 

"  Then,  God  help  the  men,  John  !  If  that  were 
so,  there  would  be  lots  of  them  without  any  good 
woman  to  care  for  them." 

"  Show  Kitty  that  Piers  is  unworthy  of  her 
love,  and  I  tell  you  she  will  put  him  out  of  her 
heart  very  quickly.  I  think  I  know  Kitty." 


224     I»  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"Women  do  not  love  according  to  deserts, 
John.  If  a  woman  has  a  bad  son  or  daughter, 
does  she  take  it  for  comfort  when  they  go  away 
from  her?  No,  indeed!  She  never  once  says, 
*  They  were  nothing  but  a  sorrow  and  an  expense, 
and  I  am  glad  to  be  rid  of  them.'  She  weeps, 
and  she  prays  all  the  more  for  them,  just  because 
they  were  bad.  And  one  kind  of  love  is  like 
another ;  so  I  will  not  speak  ill  of  Piers  to  Kate ; 
besides,  I  do  not  think  ill  of  him.  If  she  has  to 
give  him  up,  it  will  not  be  his  fault;  and  I  could 
not  tell  her  '  he  is  no  loss,  Kate,'  —  and  such 
nonsense  as  that,  —  for  it  would  be  nonsense." 

"  What  will  you  say  then?  " 

"  I  shall  help  her  to  remember  everything 
pleasant  about  him,  and  to  make  excuses  for 
him.  Even  if  you  put  comfort  on  the  lowest 
ground  possible,  no  woman  likes  to  think  she 
has  been  fooled  and  deceived,  and  given  her 
heart  for  worse  than  nothing.  Nine  hundred 
and  ninety-nine  women  out  of  a  thousand  would 
rather  blame  Fate  or  father  or  Fortune,  or  some 
other  man  or  woman,  than  their  own  lover." 

"  Women  are  queer.  A  man  in  such  a  case 
whistles  or  sings  his  heartache  away  with  the 
thought,  — 

"  '  If  she  be  not  fair  for  me, 

What  care  I  how  fair  she  be  ? '  " 

"You  are  slandering  good  men,  John.  Plenty 
of  men  would  not  give  heart-room  to  such  selfish 
love.  They  can  live  for  the  woman  they  love, 


Life  Comes  and  Goes         225 

and  yet  live  apart  from  her.  My  advice  is  that 
we  go  back  to  Atheling  at  once.  My  heart  is 
there  already.  Kitty  and  I  were  talking  yester- 
day of  the  garden.  The  trees  will  soon  be  in 
blossom,  and  the  birds  busy  building  in  them. 
Oh,  John,  — 

"  '  The  Spring's  delight, 

In  the  cowslip  bright, 
As  she  laughs  to  the  warbling  linnet ! 

And  a  whistling  thrush, 

On  a  white  May  bush, 
And  his  mate  on  the  nest  within  it ! ' " 

And  both  caught  the  joy  of  the  spring  in  the 
words,  and  the  Squire,  smiling,  stooped  and  kissed 
his  wife ;  and  she  knew  then  that  she  had  per- 
mission to  carry  her  daughter  out  of  the  way 
of  immediate  sorrow.  As  for  the  future,  Mrs. 
Atheling  never  went  into  an  enemy's  country 
in  search  of  trouble.  She  thought  it  time  enough 
to  meet  misfortune  when  it  came  to  her. 

Kate  was  not  averse  to  the  change.  Her  con- 
versation with  the  Duchess  naturally  affected  her 
feeling  towards  Annabel.  She  could  not  imagine 
her  quite  ignorant  of  it;  and  it  was,  therefore,  a 
trial  to  have  the  girl  intruding  daily  into  her  life. 
Yet  self-respect  forbade  her  to  make  any  change 
in  their  relationship  to  each  other.  Annabel, 
indeed,  appeared  wishful  to  nullify  all  the 
Duchess  had  said  by  her  behaviour  to  Cecil 
North.  Never  had  she  been  so  familiar  and  so 
affectionate  towards  him,  and  she  evidently  de- 

15 


226     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

sired  Mrs.  Atheling  and  Kate  to  understand  that 
she  was  sincerely  in  love,  and  had  every  inten- 
tion of  marrying  for  love. 

But  yet  she  was  unable  to  disguise  her  pleas- 
ure when  she  was  suddenly  told  of  their  pro- 
posed return  to  the  country.  A  vivid  wave  of 
crimson  rushed  over  her  face  and  throat;  and 
though  she  said  she  "  was  sorry,"  there  was  an 
uncontrollable  note  of  satisfaction  in  her  voice. 
She  was  really  sorry  in  one  respect;  but  she 
had  become  afraid  of  the  Squire.  He  asked  such 
point-blank  questions.  His  suspicions  were  wide 
awake  and  veering  to  the  truth.  He  was  another 
danger  in  her  situation,  and  she  felt  Justine  to  be 
all  she  could  manage.  Mrs.  Atheling  and  Kate 
being  gone,  her  visits  to  the  Vyner  house  could 
naturally  cease;  and,  as  the  winter  was  nearly 
over,  she  could  arrange  some  other  place  for 
her  meetings  with  Cecil  North.  Indeed,  he  had 
already  joined  her  in  a  few  early  morning  gal- 
lops ;  and,  besides  which,  she  reflected,  "  Love 
always  finds  out  a  way."  Cecil  was  a  quite 
manageable  factor. 

About  the  middle  of  March,  one  fine  spring 
evening,  Mrs.  Atheling  and  Kate  came  once  more 
near  to  their  own  home.  The  road  was  a  beauti- 
ful one,  bordered  with  plantations  of  feathery 
firs  on  each  side ;  and  the  pure  resinous  odour 
was  to  these  two  northern  women  sweeter  than 
a  rose  garden.  And,  oh,  what  a  home-like  air  the 
long,  rambling  old  Manor  House  had,  and  how 


Life  Comes  and  Goes         227 

bright  and  comfortable  were  its  low-ceiled  rooms ! 
When  Kate  went  to  her  own  chamber,  a  robin 
on  a  spray  of  sweet-briar  was  singing  at  her 
window.  She  took  it  for  her  welcome  back  to 
the  happy  place.  To  be  sure,  the  polished  oak 
floor  with  its  strips  of  bright  carpet,  the  little 
tent-bed  with  its  white  dimity  curtains,  and  the 
low,  latticed  windows,  full  of  rosemary  pots  and 
monthly  roses,  were  but  simple  surroundings; 
yet  Kate  threw  herself  with  joyful  abandon  into 
her  white  chair  before  the  blazing  logs,  and 
thought,  without  regret,  of  the  splendid  rooms 
of  the  Vyner  mansion,  and  the  tumult  of  men 
and  horses  in  thfc  thousand-streeted  city  out- 
side it. 

Certainly  Piers  was  in  the  city,  and  she  had  no 
hope  of  his  speedy  return  to  the  country.  But, 
equally,  she  had  no  doubts  of  his  true  affection ; 
and  the  passing  days  and  weeks  brought  her  no 
reasons  for  doubting.  She  had  frequent  letters 
from  him,  and  many  rich  tokens  of  his  constant 
remembrance.  And,  as  the  spring  advanced,  the 
joy  of  her  heart  kept  pace  with  it.  Never  before 
had  she  taken  such  delight  in  the  sylvan  life 
around  her.  The  cool  sweetness  of  the  dairy; 
the  satiny  sides  of  the  milking-pails ;  the  trig 
beauty  of  the  dairymaids,  waiting  for  the  cows, 
coming  slowly  out  of  the  stable,  —  the  beautiful 
cows,  with  their  indolent  gait  and  majestic  tramp, 
their  noble,  solemn  faces,  and  their  peaceful 
breathing,  —  why  had  she  never  noticed  these 


228     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

things  before?  Was  it  because  we  must  lose 
good  things  —  though  but  for  a  time  —  in  order 
to  find  them  ?  And  very  soon  the  bare,  brown 
garden  was  aflame  with  gold  and  purple  crocus 
buds,  and  the  delicious  woody  perfume  of  wall- 
flowers, and  the  springtide  scent  of  the  sweet- 
briar  filled  all  its  box-lined  paths.  The  trees 
became  misty  with  buds  and  plumes  and  tufts 
and  tassels;  and  in  the  deep,  green  meadow- 
grass  the  primroses  were  nestling,  and  the 
anemones  met  her  with  their  wistful  looks. 

And  far  and  wide  the  ear  was  as  satisfied  as 
the  eye  with  the  tones  of  waterfalls,  the  inland 
sounds  of  caves  and  woods,  the  birds  twittering 
secrets  in  the  tree-tops,  and  the  running  waters 
that  were  the  tongue  of  life  in  many  a  silent 
place.  Oh,  how  beautiful,  and  peaceful,  and  happy 
were  these  things !  Often  the  mother  and  daugh- 
ter wondered  to  each  other  how  they  could  ever 
have  been  pleased  to  exchange  them  for  the  gilt 
and  gewgaws  and  the  social  smut  of  the  great 
city.  Thus  they  fell  naturally  into  the  habit  of 
pitying  the  Squire,  and  Edgar,  and  Piers,  and 
wishing  they  were  all  back  at  Atheling  to  share 
the  joy  of  the  spring-time  with  them. 

One  night  towards  the  close  of  April,  Kate 
was  very  restless.  "  I  cannot  tell  what  is  the 
matter,  Mother,"  she  said.  "  My  feet  go  of  their 
own  will  to  the  garden  gates.  It  is  as  if  my 
soul  knew  there  was  somebody  coming.  Can  it 
be  father?" 


Life  Comes  and  Goes         229 

"  I  think  not,  Kitty.  Father's  last  letter  gave 
no  promise  of  any  let-up  in  the  Reform  quarrel. 
You  know  the  Bill  was  read  for  the  second  time 
as  we  left  London;  and  Earl  Grey's  Ministry 
had  then  only  a  majority  of  one.  Your  father 
said  the  Duke  was  triumphant  about  it.  He  was 
sure  that  a  Bill  which  passed  its  second  reading 
by  only  a  majority  of  one,  could  be  easily  muti- 
lated in  Committee  until  it  would  be  harmless. 
The  Lords  mean  to  kill  it,  bit  by  bit,  —  that  will 
take  time." 

"But  what  then,  Mother?  " 

"  God  knows,  child !  I  do  not  believe  the 
country  will  ever  settle  to  work  again  until  it 
gets  what  it  wants." 

"Then  will  the  House  sit  all  summer?" 

"  J  think  it  will." 

At  these  words  a  long,  cheerful  "  hallo  !  "  — 
the  Squire's  own  call  in  the  hunting-field  —  was 
heard ;  and  Kate,  crying,  "  I  told  you  so !  "  ran 
rapidly  into  the  garden.  The  Squire  was  just 
entering  the  gates  at  a  gallop.  He  drew  rein, 
threw  himself  off  his  horse,  and  took  his  daughter 
in  his  arms. 

"  I  am  so  glad,  Father  !  "  she  cried.  "  So  happy, 
Father  !  I  knew  you  were  coming !  I  knew  you 
were  coming  !  I  did  that !  " 

"  Nay,  not  thou  !     I  told  nobody." 

"  Your  heart  told  my  heart.  Ask  mother. 
Here  she  comes." 

Then,  late  as  it  was,  the  quiet  house  suddenly 


230     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

became  full  of  noise  and  bustle ;  and  the  hubbub 
that  usually  followed  the  Squire's  advent  was 
everywhere  apparent.  For  he  wanted  all  at  once, 
—  his  meat  and  his  drink,  his  easy  coat  and  his 
slippers,  his  pipe  and  his  dogs,  and  his  serving 
men  and  women.  He  wanted  to  hear  about  the 
ploughing,  and  the  sowing,  and  the  gardening ; 
about  the  horses,  and  the  cattle,  and  the  markets ; 
the  farm  hands,  and  the  tenants  of  the  Atheling 
cottages.  He  wanted  his  wife's  report,  and  his 
steward's  report,  and  his  daughter's  petting  and 
opinions.  The  night  wore  on  to  midnight  before 
he  would  speak  of  London,  or  the  House,  or  the 
Bill. 

"  I  may  surely  have  a  little  bit  of  peace,  Maude," 
he  said  reproachfully,  when  she  ventured  to  in- 
troduce the  subject ;  "  it  has  been  the  Bill,  and 
the  Bill,  and  the  Bill,  till  my  ears  ache  with  the 
sound  of  the  words." 

"Just  tell  us  if  it  has  passed,  John." 

"  No,  it  has  not  passed  ;  and  Parliament  is  dis- 
solved again  ;  and  the  country  has  taken  the  bit 
in  its  teeth,  and  the  very  mischief  of  hell  is  let 
loose.  I  told  the  Duke  what  his  *  obstructing ' 
ways  would  do.  Englishmen  like  obstructions. 
They  would  put  them  there,  if  they  were  absent, 
for  the  very  pleasure  of  getting  over  them.  Many 
a  man  that  was  against  the  Bill  is  now  against  the 
'  obstructions '  and  bound  to  get  over  them." 

"Did  Piers  come  down  with  you,  Father?" 
asked  Kate.  She  had  waited  long  and  patiently, 


Life  Comes  and  Goes         231 

and  the  Squire  had  not  named  him ;  and  she  felt 
a  little  wounded  by  the  neglect. 

"  No.  He  did  not  come  down  with  me,  Kitty. 
But  I  dare  say  he  is  at  the  Castle.  The  Duke 
spoke  of  returning  to  Yorkshire  at  once." 

"  He  might  have  come  with  you,  I  think." 

"  I  think  not.  A  man's  father  and  mother 
cannot  always  be  put  aside  for  his  sweetheart. 
Lovers  think  they  can  run  the  world  to  their  own 
whim-whams.  'T  would  be  a  God's  pity  if  they 
could ! " 

"  What  are  you  cross  about,  Father?  Has 
Piers  vexed  you?" 

"Am  I  cross,  Kitty?  I  did  not  know  it.  Go  to 
bed,  child.  England  stands  where  she  did,  and 
Piers  is  yet  Lord  of  Exham  Hall.  I  dare  say  he 
will  be  here  to-morrow.  I  came  at  my  own  pace. 
He  would  have  to  keep  the  pace  of  two  fine 
ladies.  And  I  '11  be  bound  he  fretted  like  a  race- 
horse yoked  in  a  plough." 

And  Kitty  was  wise  enough  to  know  that  she 
had  heard  all  she  was  likely  to  hear  that  night ; 
nor  was  she  ill-pleased  to  be  alone  with  her  hopes. 
Piers  was  at  hand.  To-morrow  she  might  see 
him,  and  hear  him  speak,  and  feel  the  tenderness 
of  his  clasp,  and  meet  the  love  in  his  eyes.  So 
she  sat  at  the  open  casement,  breathing  the  sweet- 
ness and  peace  of  the  night,  and  shaping  things 
for  the  future  that  made  her  heart  beat  quick 
with  many  thoughts  not  to  be  revealed.  The 
faint  smile  of  the  loving,  dreaming  of  the  loved 


232     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

one,  was  on  her  lips ;  and  if  a  doubt  came  to  her, 
she  put  it  far  away.  In  fear  she  would  not  dwell, 
and,  besides,  her  heart  had  given  her  that  insight 
which  changes  faith  into  knowledge.  She  knew 
that  Piers  loved  her. 

The  Squire  had  no  such  clear  confidence. 
When  Kitty  had  gone  away,  he  said  plainly,  "  I 
am  not  pleased  with  Piers.  I  do  not  like  his 
ways ;  I  do  not  like  them  at  all.  After  Kate  left 
London,  he  was  seen  everywhere,  and  constantly, 
with  Miss  Vyner." 

"  Why  not  ?    She  is  one  of  his  own  household." 

"They  were  very  confidential  together.  I 
noticed  them  often  for  Kitty's  sake." 

"  I  do  wish,  Squire,  that  you  would  leave  Kitty's 
love-affairs  alone." 

"  That  I  will  not,  Maude.  If  I  have  any  busi- 
ness now,  it  is  to  pay  attention  to  them.  I  have 
taken  your  '  let-alone  '  plan,  far  too  long.  My 
girl  shall  not  be  courted  in  any  such  underhand, 
mouse-in-the-corner  way.  Her  engagement  to 
Lord  Exham  must  be  publicly  acknowledged,  or 
else  broken  entirely  off." 

"  The  man  loves  Kate.     He  will  do  right  to  her." 

"  Loves  Kate !  Very  good.  But  what  of  the 
Other  One?  He  cannot  do  right  to  both." 

"  Yes,  he  can.  Their  claims  are  different. 
You  may  depend  on  that.  Kate  is  the  love  of 
his  soul ;  the  Other  One  is  like  a  sister." 

"  I  do  not  trust  either  Piers  or  the  Other  One 
—  and  I  wish  she  would  give  me  my  ring." 


Life  Comes  and  Goes         233 

"  You  do  not  certainly  know  that  she  has  your 
ring. " 

"  I  will  ask  her  to  let  me  see  it." 

"  Now,  John  Atheling,  you  will  meddle  with 
things  that  concern  you,  and  let  other  things 
alone.  It  may  be  your  duty  to  interfere  about 
your  daughter.  You  may  insist  on  having  her 
recognised  as  the  future  Duchess  of  Richmoor,  — 
it  will  be  a  feather  in  your  own  cap ;  you  may 
say  to  the  Duke,  you  must  accept  my  daughter, 
or  I  will  —  " 

"  Maude !  You  are  just  trying  to  stand  me 
upon  my  pride.  You  cannot  do  that  any  longer. 
If  you  are  willing  to  let  Kate  'drift,'  I  am  not.  It 
is  my  duty  to  insist  on  her  proper  recognition." 

"  Then  do  your  duty.  But  it  is  not  your  duty 
to  catechise  Miss  Vyner  about  my  ring.  When 
that  inquiry  is  to  be  made,  I  will  make  it  myself. 
If  Piers  has  to  give  up  Kate,  it  will  be  to  him  a 
knock-down  blow ;  it  will  be  a  shot  in  the  back- 
bone; you  need  not  sting  him  at  the  same  time." 

"  I  will  speak  to  him  to-morrow,  and  see  the 
Duke  afterwards.  I  owe  my  little  Kate  that 
much." 

"  And  the  Duke  and  yourself  will  be  the 
upper  and  the  nether  millstones,  and  your  little 
Kate  between  them.  I  know !  I  know  !  " 

"  I  will  do  what  is  right,  Maude,  and  I  will  be 
as  kind  as  I  can  in  doing  it.  Who  loves  Kitty  as 
I  do?  There  is  a  deal  said  about  mother  love; 
but,  I  tell  thee,  a  father's  love  is  bottomless.  I 


234     I»  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

would  lay  my  life  down  for  my  little  girl,  this 
minute." 

"  But  not  thy  pride." 

"  Not  my  honour  —  which  is  her  honour  also. 
Honour  must  stand  with  love,  or  else  —  nay,  I 
will  not  give  thee  any  more  reasons.  I  know  my 
decision  is  right ;  but  it  is  thy  way  to  make  out 
that  all  my  reasons  are  wrong.  I  wish  thou 
wouldst  prepare  her  a  bit  for  what  may  come." 

"  There  is  no  preparation  for  sorrow,  John. 
When  it  comes  it  smites." 

Then  the  Squire  lit  his  pipe,  and  the  mother 
went  softly  upstairs  to  look  at  her  little  girl. 
And,  as  she  did  so,  Kate's  arms  enfolded  her,  and 
she  whispered,  "  Piers  is  coming  to-morrow.  Are 
you  glad,  Mother?" 

Then,  so  strange  and  contrary  is  human  nature, 
the  mother  felt  a  moment's  angry  annoyance. 
"  Can  you  think  of  no  one  but  Piers,  Kate?"  she 
asked.  And  the  girl  was  suddenly  aware  of  her 
selfish  happiness,  and  ashamed  of  it  She  ran 
after  her  mother,  and  brought  her  back  to  her 
bedside,  and  said  sorrowfully,  "  I  know,  Mother, 
that  about  Piers  I  am  a  little  sinner."  And  then 
Mrs.  Atheling  kissed  her  again,  and  answered, 
"  Never  mind,  Kitty.  I  have  often  seen  sinners 
that  were  more  angel-like  than  saints  — "  and 
the  shadow  was  over.  Oh,  how  good  it  is  when 
human  nature  reaches  down  to  the  perennial ! 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  235 


-  CHAPTER  TWELFTH 

THE   SHADOW   OF  SORROW  STRETCHED  OUT 

WHEN  the  Squire  entered  the  breakfast  parlour, 
Kate  was  just  coming  in  from  the  garden.  The 
dew  of  the  morning  was  on  her  cheeks,  the 
scent  of  the  sweet-briar  and  the  daffodils  in  her 
hair,  the  songs  of  the  thrush  and  the  linnet  in 
her  heart.  She  was  beautiful  as  Hebe,  and  fresh 
as  Aurora.  He  clasped  her  face  between  his 
large  hands,  and  she  lifted  the  bunch  of  daffodils 
to  his  face,  and  asked,  "Are  they  not  beautiful? 
Do  you  know  what  Mr.  Wordsworth  says  about 
them,  Father?" 

"  Not  I !  I  never  read  his  foolishness." 
"  His  '  foolishness  '  is  music ;   I  can  tell  you 
that.     Listen  sir,  — 

" '  A  smile  of  last  year's  sun  strayed  down  the  hills, 

And  lost  its  way  within  yon  windy  wood; 
Lost  through  the  months  of  snow  —  but  not  for  good  : 
I  found  it  in  a  clump  of  daffodils.' 

Are  they  not  lovely  lines?  " 

"  They  sound  like  most  uncommon  nonsense, 
Kitty.  Come  and  sit  beside  me,  I  have  something 
far  more  sensible  and  important  to  tell  you." 

"About  the  Bill,  Father?" 


236     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  Partly  about  the  Bill  and  partly  about  Edgar. 
Which  news  will  you  have  first?  " 

"  Mother  will  say  '  Edgar,'  and  I  go  with 
mother." 

"  I  do  not  think  you  can  tell  me  any  news 
about  Edgar,  John." 

"  Go  on,  Father,  mother  is  only  talking.  She 
is  so  anxious  she  cannot  pour  the  coffee  straight. 
What  about  Edgar?" 

"  I  must  tell  you  that  I  made  a  speech  two 
days  before  the  House  closed;  and  the  papers 
said  it  was  a  very  great  speech,  and  I  think  it 
was  a  tone  or  two  above  the  average.  Did  you 
read  it  ?  " 

"  You  never  sent  us  a  paper,  Father." 

"You  wouldn't  have  read  it  if  I  had  sent  it. 
I  knew  Philip  Brotherton  would  read  every  word, 
so  it  went  to  him.  I  was  a  little  astonished  at 
myself,  for  I  did  not  know  that  I  could  bring  out 
the  very  truth  the  way  I  did  ;  but  I  saw  Edgar 
watching  me,  and  I  saw  no  one  else ;  and  I  just 
talked  to  him,  as  I  used  to  do,  —  good,  plain, 
household  words,  with  a  bit  of  Yorkshire  now 
and  then  to  give  them  pith  and  power.  I  was 
cheered  to  the  echo,  and  if  Edgar,  when  I  used 
to  talk  to  him  for  his  good,  had  only  cheered  me 
on  my  hearthstone  as  he  cheered  me  in  the 
Commons,  there  would  n't  have  been  any  ill 
blood  between  us.  Afterwards,  in  the  crush  of 
the  lobby,  I  saw  Edgar  a  little  before  me ;  and 
Mr.  O'Connell  walked  up  to  him,  and  said, '  Athel- 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  237 

ing,  you  ought  to  take  lessons  from  your  father, 
he  strikes  every  nail  on  the  head.  In  your  case, 
the  old  cock  crows,  but  the  young  one  has  not 
learnt  his  lesson.'  I  was  just  behind,  and  I  heard 
every  word,  and  I  was  ready  to  answer;  but 
Edgar  did  my  work  finely." 

"  He  should  not  have  noticed  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Atheling. 

"  Ah,  but  he  did  !  He  said,  '  Mr.  O'Connell,  I 
will  trouble  you  to  speak  of  Squire  Atheling  re- 
spectfully. He  is  not  old ;  he  is  in  the  prime  of 
life ;  and,  in  all  that  makes  youth  desirable,  he  is 
twenty-five  years  younger  than  you  are.  I  think 
you  have  felt  his  spurs  once,  and  I  would  advise 
you  to  beware  of  them.'  And  what  O'Connell 
answered  I  cannot  tell,  but  it  would  be  up  to 
mark,  I  can  warrant  that !  I  slipped  away  before 
I  was  noticed,  and  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  I 
was  pleased  with  what  I  had  heard.  *  Not  as  old 
as  O'Connell  by  twenty-five  years  ! '  I  laughed 
to  myself  all  the  way  home ;  and,  in  the  dark  of 
the  night,  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  Edgar's 
angry  face,  and  the  way  he  stood  up  for  me.  I 
do  think,  Maude,  that  somehow  it  must  have  been 
thy  fault  we  had  that  quarrel  —  I  mean  to  say, 
that  if  thou  hadst  stood  firm  by  me,  —  that  is,  if 
thou  hadst — " 

"  John,  go  on  and  do  not  bother  thyself  to 
make  excuses.  Was  that  the  end  of  it?  " 

"  In  a  way.  The  next  afternoon  I  was  sitting 
by  the  fireside  having  a  quiet  smoke,  and  think- 


238     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

ing  of  the  fine  speech  I  had  made,  and  if  it  would 
be  safe  to  try  again,  when  Dobson  came  in  and 
said,  '  Squire,  Mr.  Edgar  wishes  to  see  you/  and 
I  said,  '  Very  well,  bring  Mr.  Edgar  upstairs.'  I 
had  thrown  off  my  coat ;  but  I  had  on  one  of  my 
fine  ruffled  shirts  and  my  best  blue  waistcoat,  and 
so  I  did  n't  feel  so  very  out  of  the  way  when 
Edgar  came  in  with  the  loveliest  young  woman 
on  his  arm  —  except  Kitty  —  that  I  ever  set  eyes 
on;  and  I  was  dumfounded  when  he  brought 
her  to  me  and  said,  '  My  dear  Father,  Annie 
Curzon,  who  has  promised  to  be  my  wife,  wants 
to  know  you  and  to  love  you.'  And  the  little 
thing — for  she  is  but  a  sprite  of  a  woman  — 
laid  her  hand  on  my  arm  and  looked  at  me ;  and 
what  in  heaven's  name  was  I  to  do?" 

"What  did  you  do?" 

"  I  just  lifted  her  up  and  kissed  her  bonny 
face,  and  said  I  had  room  enough  in  my  heart 
and  home  for  her;  and  that  she  was  gladly  wel- 
come, and  would  be  much  made  of,  and  I  don't 
know  what  else  —  plenty  of  things  of  the  same 
sort  My  word  !  Edgar  was  set  up." 

"  He  may  well  be  set  up,"  answered  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing ;  "  she  is  the  richest  and  sweetest  girl  in 
England ;  and  she  thinks  the  sun  rises  and  sets 
in  Edgar  Atheling.  He  ought  to  be  set  up  with 
a  wife  like  that." 

"  He  was,  with  her  and  me  together.  I  don't 
know  which  of  us  seemed  to  please  him  most. 
Maude,  they  are  coming  down  to  Lord  Ashley's 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  239 

on  a  visit,  and  I  asked  them  here.  I  could  not 
do  any  different,  could  I  ?  " 

"  If  you  had  you  would  have  been  a  poor  kind 
of  a  father.  What  did  you  say?  " 

"  I  said,  when  you  are  at  Ashley  Place  come 
over  to  Atheling,  and  I  gave  Edgar  my  hand  and 
looked  at  him  ;  and  he  looked  at  me  and  clasped 
it  tight,  and  said,  '  We  will  come.'  " 

"  That  was  right." 

"  I  am  glad  I  have  done  right  for  once,  Maude. 
Do  you  know  that  Ashley  is  one  of  the  worst 
Radicals  in  the  lot  of  them?  " 

"  Never  mind,  John.  I  have  noticed  that,  as  a 
general  thing,  the  worse  Radical,  the  better  man  ; 
but  a  Tory  cannot  be  trusted  to  give  a  Radical  a 
character.  The  Tories  are  very  like  the  poor  cat 
who  said,  '  If  she  only  had  wings,  she  would 
gladly  extirpate  the  whole  race  of  those  trouble- 
some sparrows.' " 

"  There  are  to  be  no  more  Tories  now,  we  have 
got  a  new  name.  Lord  John  Russell  called  us 
'  Conservatives,'  and  we  took  to  the  word,  and  it 
is  as  like  as  not  to  stick  to  us.  It  will  be  Con- 
servatives and  Reformers  in  the  future." 

"  But  you  said  the  Reform  Bill  was  lost." 

"  I  said  it  had  not  passed.  What  of  that?  The 
rascals  have  only  been  downed  for  this  round; 
they  will  be  up  to  time,  when  time  is  called  June 
the  twenty-first ;  and  they  will  fight  harder  than 
ever." 

"  How  was  the  Bill  lost?     By  obstructions?  " 


240     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  Yes ;  when  it  was  ready  to  go  into  Committee, 
General  Gascoigne  moved  that,  '  The  number  of 
members  returned  to  Parliament  ought  not  to  be 
diminished  ; '  and  when  the  House  divided  on  this 
motion,  Gascoigne's  resolution  had  a  majority  of 
eight." 

"Then  Grey's  Ministry  have  retired?"  said 
Mrs.  Atheling,  in  alarm. 

"  No,  they  have  not ;  they  should  have  done 
so  by  all  decent  precedents ;  but,  instead  of  be- 
having like  gentlemen,  they  resolved  to  appeal 
to  the  country.  We  sat  all  night  quarrelling  on 
this  subject ;  but  at  five  in  the  morning  I  was 
worn  out  with  the  stifling,  roaring  House,  and 
sick  with  the  smell  of  dying  candles,  and  the  reek 
and  steam  of  quarrelling  human  beings,  so  I 
stepped  out  and  took  a  few  turns  on  Westminster 
Bridge.  It  was  a  dead-calm,  lovely  morning,  and 
the  sun  was  just  rising  over  the  trees  of  the  Ab- 
bey and  the  Speaker's  house,  and  I  had  a  bit  of 
heart-longing  for  Atheling." 

"  Why  did  you  not  run  away  to  Atheling, 
Father?" 

"I  could  not  have  done  a  thing  like  that,  Kitty, 
not  for  the  life  of  me.  I  went  back  to  the  House  ; 
and  for  three  days  we  fought  like  dogs,  tooth  and 
nail,  over  the  dissolution.  Then  Lord  Grey  and 
Lord  Brougham  did  such  a  thing  as  never  was : 
they  went  to  the  King  and  told  him,  plump  and 
plain,  he  must  dissolve  Parliament  or  they  would 
resign,  and  he  must  be  answerable  for  conse- 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  241 

quences ;  and  the  King  did  not  want  to  dissolve 
Parliament ;  he  knew  a  new  House  would  be  still 
fuller  of  Reform  members  ;  and  he  made  all  kinds 
of  excuses.  He  said,  '  The  Crown  and  Robes 
were  not  ready,  and  the  Guards  and  troops  had 
not  been  notified  ; '  and  then,  to  his  amazement 
and  anger,  Lord  Brougham  told  him  that  the 
officers  of  State  had  been  summoned,  that  the 
Crown  and  Robes  were  ready,  and  the  Guards 
and  troops  waiting." 

"  My  word,  John  !  That  was  a  daring  thing  to 
do." 

"  If  William  the  Fourth  had  been  Henry  the 
Eighth,  Lord  Brougham's  head  would  n't  have 
been  worth  a  shilling  ;  as  it  was,  William  flew 
into  a  great  passion,  and  cried  out,  '  You  !  You, 
my  Lord  Chancellor !  You  ought  to  know  that 
such  an  act  is  treason,  is  high  treason,  my  lord  !  ' 
And  Brougham  said,  humbly,  that  he  did  know  it 
was  high  treason,  and  that  nothing  but  his  sol- 
emn belief  that  the  safety  of  the  State  depended 
on  the  act  would  have  made  him  bold  enough  to 
venture  on  so  improper  a  proceeding.  Then  the 
King  cooled  down ;  and  Brougham  took  from  his 
pocket  the  speech  which  the  King  was  to  read  ; 
and  the  King  took  it  with  words ;  that  were  partly 
menace,  and  partly  joke  at  his  Minister's  audacity, 
and  so  dismissed  them." 

"  I  never  heard   of  such  carryings  on.     Why 
didn't  Brougham   put   the   Crown   on  his  own 
head,  and  be  done  with  it?" 
16 


242     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  I  do  not  like  Brougham ;  but  in  this  matter, 
he  acted  very  wisely.  If  the  King  had  refused 
to  dissolve  a  Parliament  that  had  proved  itself 
unable  to  carry  Reform,  I  do  think,  Maude,  Lon- 
don would  have  been  in  flames,  and  the  whole 
country  in  rebellion,  before  another  day  broke." 
"Were  you  present  at  the  dissolution,  John?" 
"  I  was  sitting  beside  Piers,  when  the  Usher 
of  the  Black  Rod  knocked  at  the  door  of  the 
Commons.  It  had  to  be  a  very  loud  knock,  for 
the  House  was  in  a  state  of  turbulence  and  con- 
fusion far  beyond  the  Speaker's  control;  while 
Sir  Robert  Peel  was  denouncing  the  Ministry 
in  the  hardest  words  he  could  pick  out,  and 
being  interrupted  in  much  the  same  manner.  I 
can  tell  you  that  a  good  many  of  us  were  glad 
enough  to  hear  the  guns  announcing  the  King's 
approach.  The  Duke  told  me  afterwards  that 
the  Lords  were  in  still  greater  commotion. 
Brougham  was  speaking,  when  there  were  cries 
of  '  The  King !  The  King !  '  And  Lord  London- 
derry rose  in  a  fury  and  said,  '  He  would  not 
submit  to  — '  Nobody  heard  what  he  would  not 
submit  to ;  for  Brougham  snatched  up  the  Seals 
and  rushed  out  of  the  House.  Then  there  was 
terrible  confusion,  and  Lord  Mansfield  rose  and 
was  making  a  passionate  oration  against  the 
Reform  Bill,  when  the  King  entered  and  cut  it 
short.  Well,  London  went  mad  for  a  few  hours. 
Nearly  every  house  was  illuminated;  and  the 
Duke  of  Wellington,  and  the  Duke  of  Richmoor, 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  243 

and  other  great  Tories  had  their  windows 
broken,  as  a  warning  not  to  obstruct  the  next 
Parliament.  I  really  don't  know  what  to  make 
of  it  all,  Maude  !  " 

"  Well,  John,  I  think  statesmen  ought  to  know 
what  to  make  of  it." 

"  I  rode  down  from  London  on  my  own  nag; 
and  in  many  a  town  and  village  I  saw  things  that 
made  my  heart  ache.  Why,  my  dears,  there 
has  been  sixty  thousand  pounds  put  into  —  not 
bread  and  meat  —  but  peas  and  meal  to  feed 
the  starving  women  and  children;  the  Govern- 
ment has  given  away  forty  thousand  garments 
to  clothe  the  naked ;  and  the  Bank  of  England 
—  a  very  close  concern  —  is  lending  money,  yes, 
as  much  as  ten  thousand  pounds,  to  some  pri- 
vate individuals,  in  order  to  keep  their  factories 
going.  Something  is  far  wrong,  when  good 
English  workmen  are  paupers.  But  I  don't  see 
how  Parliamentary  Reform  is  going  to  help  them 
to  bread  and  meat  and  decent  work." 

"John,  these  hungry,  naked  men  know  what 
they  want.  Edgar  says  a  Reform  Parliament 
will  open  all  the  ports  to  free  trade,  and  tear  to 
pieces  the  infamous  Corn  Laws,  and  make  hours 
of  work  shorter,  and  wages  higher  and  — 

"  Give  the  whole  country  to  the  working  men. 
I  see !  I  see  !  Now,  Maude,  men  are  not  going 
to  run  factories  for  fun,  nor  yet  for  charity; 
and  farmers  are  not  going  to  till  their  fields 
just  to  see  how  little  they  can  get  for  their 
wheat." 


244     I»  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"Father,  what  part  did  Piers  take  in  all  this 
trouble?" 

"  He  voted  with  his  party.  He  was  very 
regular  in  his  place." 

"  I  will  go  now  and  put  on  my  habit.  Piers 
sent  me  word  that  he  would  be  here  soon  after 
eleven  o'clock ;  "  and  Kate,  with  a  smile,  went 
quickly  out  of  the  room.  The  Squire  was  non- 
plussed by  the  suddenness  of  her  movement, 
and  did  not  know  whether  to  detain  her  or  not. 
Mrs.  Atheling  saw  his  irresolution,  and  said,  — 

"  Let  her  go  this  time,  John.  Let  her  have 
one  last  happy  memory  to  keep  through  the 
time  of  trouble  you  seem  bound  to  give  her." 

"Can  I  help  it?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  You  speak  as  if  it  was  a  pleasure  to  me." 

"  What  for  are  you  so  set  on  interfering  just 
at  this  time?" 

"  Because  it  is  the  right  time." 

"  Who  told  you  it  was  the  right  time?  " 

"  My  own  heart,  and  my  own  knowledge  of 
what  is  right  and  wrong." 

"  You  are  never  liable  to  make  a  mistake,  I 
suppose,  John?" 

"  Not  on  this  subject.  I  never  saw  such  an 
unreasonable  woman !  Never !  It  is  enough  to 
discourage  any  man;  "  and  as  Mrs.  Atheling 
rose  and  began  to  put  away  her  silver  without 
answering  him  a  word,  he  grew  angry  at  her 
want  of  approval,  and  put  on  his  hat  and  went 
towards  the  stables. 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  245 

He  had  no  special  intention  of  watching  for 
Lord  Exham,  and  indeed  had  for  the  moment 
forgotten  his  existence,  when  the  young  man 
leaped  his  horse  over  the  wall  of  the  Atheling 
plantation.  The  act  annoyed  the  Squire;  he 
was  proud  of  his  plantation,  and  did  not  like  tres- 
passing through  it.  Such  a  little  thing  often 
decides  a  great  thing;  and  this  trifling  offence 
made  it  easy  for  the  Squire  to  say,  — 

"  Good-morning,  Piers,  I  wish  you  would  dis- 
mount. I  have  a  few  words  to  speak  to  you ;  " 
and  there  was  in  his  voice  that  shivery  half- 
tone which  is  neither  one  thing  nor  the  other: 
and  Exham  recognised  it  without  applying  the 
change  to  himself.  He  was  a  little  annoyed  at 
the  delay ;  but  he  leaped  to  the  ground,  put  the 
bridle  over  his  arm,  and  stood  beside  the  Squire, 
who  then  said,  — 

"  Piers,  I  have  come  to  the  decision  not  to 
sanction  any  longer  your  attentions  to  Kate  — 
unless  your  father  also  sanctions  them.  It  is 
high  time  your  engagement  was  either  publicly 
acknowledged  or  else  put  an  end  to." 

"  You  are  right,  Squire ;  what  do  you  wish  me 
to  do?  I  will  make  Kate  my  wife  at  any  time 
you  propose.  I  desire  nothing  more  earnestly 
than  this." 

"  Easy,  Piers,  easy.  You  must  obtain  the 
Duke's  consent  first." 

"  I  could  hardly  select  a  worse  time  to  ask 
him  for  it.  I  am  of  full  age.  I  am  my  own 


246     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

master.  I  will  marry  Kate  in  the  face  of  all 
opposition." 

"  I  say  you  will  not.  My  daughter  is  not  for 
you,  if  there  is  any  opposition.  The  Duke  and 
Duchess  are  at  the  head  of  your  house;  and 
Kate  cannot  enter  a  house  in  which  she  would  be 
unwelcome." 

"  Kate  will  reside  at  Exham." 

"  And  be  a  divider  between  you  and  your 
father  and  mother.  No  !  In  the  end  she  would 
get  the  worst  of  it ;  and,  even  if  she  got  the  best 
of  it,  I  am  not  willing  she  should  begin  a  life  of 
quarrelling  and  hatred.  You  can  see  the  Duke 
at  your  convenience,  and  let  me  know  what  he 
says." 

"  I  will  see  him  to-day,"  he  had  taken  out  his 
watch  and  was  looking  at  it  as  he  spoke.  "  Will 
you  excuse  me  now,  Squire  ? "  he  asked.  "  I 
sent  Kate  a  message  early  this  morning  promis- 
ing to  call  for  her  about  eleven.  I  am  already 
late." 

"  You  may  turn  back.  I  will  make  an  excuse 
for  you.  You  cannot  ride  with  Kate  to-day." 

"  Squire,  I  made  the  offer  and  the  promise. 
Permit  me  to  honour  my  word." 

"  I  will  honour  it  for  you.  There  has  been 
enough,  and  too  much,  riding  and  walking,  unless 
you  are  to  ride  and  walk  all  your  lives  together. 
Good-morning !  " 

"  Squire,  give  me  one  hour?  " 

"  I  will  not." 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  247 

"  A  few  minutes  to  explain." 
"  I  have  told  you  that  I  would  explain." 
"  I  never  knew  you  unkind  before.     Have  I 
offended  you?      Have   I   done  anything  which 
you  do  not  approve?  " 

"  That   is   not  the   question.     I   will  see  you 
again  —  when  you  have  seen  your  father." 

"  You  are  very  unkind,  very  unkind  indeed,  sir." 
"  Maybe  I  am ;  but  when  the  surgeon's  knife  is 
to  use,  there  is  no  use  pottering  with  drugs  and 
fine  speeches.  It  is  the  knife  between  you  and 
Kate  —  or  it  is  the  ring  ;  "  and  the  word  re- 
minded him  of  the  lost  love  gage,  and  made  his 
face  hard  and  stern.  Then  he  turned  from  the 
young  man,  and  had  a  momentary  pleasure  in 
the  sound  of  his  furious  galloping  in  the  other 
direction ;  for  he  was  in  a  state  of  great  tur- 
moil. He  had  suddenly  done  a  thing  he  had 
been  wishing  to  do  for  a  long  time  ;  and  he  was 
not  satisfied.  In  short,  passionate  ejaculations, 
he  tried  to  relieve  himself  of  something  wrong, 
and  did  not  succeed.  "  He  deserves  it;  he  was 
all  the  time  with  that  Other  One,  —  day  by  day 
in  the  parks,  night  after  night  in  the  House  and 
the  opera ;  he  gave  her  that  ring  —  I  '11  swear 
he  did;  how  else  should  she  have  it?  My  Kate 
is  not  going  to  be  second-best  —  not  if  I  can  help 
it;  what  do  I  care  for  their  dukedom?  —  con- 
found the  whole  business  !  A  man  with  a  daugh- 
ter to  watch  has  a  heart  full  of  sorrow — and  it 
is  all  her  mother's  fault !  " 


248     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Setting  his  steps  to  such  aggravating  opinions, 
he  reached  the  Manor  House  and  went  into  the 
parlour.  Kate  stood  at  the  window  in  her  riding 
dress.  She  had  lost  her  usual  fine  composure, 
and  was  nervously  tapping  the  wooden  sill  with 
the  handle  of  her  whip.  On  her  father's  entrance, 
she  turned  an  anxious  face  to  him,  and  asked, 
"  Did  you  see  anything  of  Piers,  Father?  " 

"  I  did.  I  have  been  having  a  bit  of  a  talk  with 
him." 

"  Then  he  is  at  the  door?  I  am  so  glad  !  I 
thought  something  was  wrong !  " 

"  Stop,  Kitty.  He  is  not  at  the  door.  He  has 
gone  home.  I  sent  him  home.  Now  don't  in- 
terrupt me.  I  made  up  my  mind  in  London  that 
he  should  not  see  you  again  until  your  engage- 
ment was  recognised  by  his  father  and  mother." 

"  Should  not  see  me  again !     Father  !  " 

"  That  is  right." 

"  But  I  must  see  him !  I  must  see  him ! 
Where  is  mother?" 

"  Mother  thinks  as  I  do,  Kate." 

"  Oh,  what  shall  I  do  ?     What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  Go  upstairs,  and  take  off  your  habit,  and 
think  over  things.  You  know  quite  well  that 
such  underhand  courting  —  " 

"  Piers  is  not  underhand.  He  is  as  straight- 
forward as  you  are,  Father." 

"  There  now !  Don't  cry.  I  won't  have  any 
crying  about  what  is  only  right.  Come  here, 
Kitty.  Thou  knowest  thy  father  loves  every  hair 


of  thy  head.  Will  he  wrong  thee  ?  Will  he  give 
thee  a  moment's  pain  he  can  help?  Kitty,  I 
heard  talk  in  London  that  fired  me  —  I  saw 
things  that  have  to  be  explained." 
"  Father,  you  will  break  my  heart!  " 
"  Well,  Kitty,  I  have  had  a  good  many  heart- 
aches all  winter  about  my  girl.  And  I  have  made 
up  my  mind,  if  I  die  for  it,  that  there  shall  be  no 
more  whispering  and  wondering  about  your  rela- 
tionship to  Piers  Exham.  Now  don't  fret  till  you 
know  you  have  a  reason.  Piers  has  a  deal  of  power 
over  the  Duke.  He  will  win  his  way  —  if  he 
wants  to  win  it.  Then  I  will  have  a  business 
talk  with  both  men,  and  your  engagement  and 
marriage  will  be  square  and  above-board,  and 
no  nodding  and  winking  and  shrugging  about  it 
You  are  Kate  Atheling,  and  I  will  not  have  you 
sought  in  any  by-way.  Before  God,  I  will  not ! 
Cry,  if  you  must.  But  I  think  better  of  you." 
"  Oh,  Mother !  Mother  !  Mother !  " 
"  Yes  !  you  and  your  mother  have  brought  all 
this  on,  with  your  '  let  things  alone,  be  happy 
to-day,  and  to-morrow  will  take  care  of  itself 
ways.  If  you  were  a  milk-maid,  that  plan  might 
do ;  but  a  girl  with  your  lineage  has  to  look  be- 
hind and  before;  she  can't  live  for  herself  and 
herself  only." 

"  I  wish  I  was  a  milk-maid  !  " 
"  To  be  sure.     Let  me  have  the  lover  I  want, 
and  my  father,  and  my  mother,  and  my  brother, 
and  my  home,  and  all  that  are  behind  me,  and  all 


250     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

that  are  to  come  after,  and  all  honour,  and  all 
gratitude,  and  all  decent  affection  can  go  to  the 
devil !  "  and  with  these  words,  the  Squire  lifted 
his  hat,  and  went  passionately  out  of  the  room. 

Though  he  had  given  Kate  the  hope  that  Piers 
would  influence  his  father,  he  had  no  such  expec- 
tation. There  was  a  very  strained  political  feel- 
ing between  the  Duke  and  himself;  and,  apart 
from  that,  the  Squire  had  failed  to  win  any  social 
liking  from  the  Richmoors.  He  was  so  indepen- 
dent; he  thought  so  much  of  the  Athelings, 
and  was  so  indifferent  to  the  glory  of  the  Rich- 
moors.  He  had  also  strong  opinions  of  all  kinds, 
and  did  not  scruple  to  express  them ;  and  private 
opinions  are  just  the  one  thing  not  wanted  and 
not  endurable  in  society.  In  fact,  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  had  both  been  subject  to  serious  re- 
lentings  for  having  any  alliance,  either  political 
or  social,  with  their  opinionated,  domineering 
neighbour. 

And  Piers,  driven  by  the  anguish  of  his  unex- 
pected calamity,  went  into  his  father's  presence 
without  any  regard  to  favourable  circumstances. 
Previously  he  had  considered  them  too  much ; 
now  he  gave  them  no  consideration  at  all.  The 
Duke  had  premonitory  symptoms  of  an  attack  of 
gout;  and  the  Duchess  had  just  told  him  that 
her  brother  Lord  Francis  Gower  was  going  to 
Germany,  and  that  she  had  decided  to  accom- 
pany his  party.  "  Annabel  looks  ill,"  she  added ; 
"the  season  has  been  too  much  for  a  girl  so  emo- 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  251 

tional ;  and  as  for  myself,  I  am  thoroughly  worn 
out." 

"  I  do  not  like  separating  Piers  and  Annabel," 
answered  the  Duke.  "  They  have  just  become 
confidential  and  familiar ;  and  in  the  country  too, 
where  Miss  Atheling  will  have  everything  in  her 
favour !  " 

"  Annabel  is  resolved  to  go  abroad.  She  says 
she  detests  England.  You  had  better  make  the 
best  of  the  inevitable,  Duke.  I  shall  want  one 
thousand  pounds." 

"  I  cannot  spare  a  thousand  pounds.  My  ex- 
penses have  been  very  great  this  past  winter." 

"  Still,  I  shall  require  a  thousand  pounds." 

The  Duchess  had  just  left  her  husband  with 
this  question  to  consider.  He  did  not  want  to 
part  with  a  thousand  pounds,  and  he  did  not  want 
to  part  with  Annabel.  She  was  the  brightest  ele- 
ment in  his  life.  She  had  become  dear  to  him, 
and  the  thought  of  her  fortune  made  his  financial 
difficulties  easier  to  bear.  For  the  encumbrances 
which  the  times  forced  him  to  lay  on  his  estate 
need  not  embarrass  Piers ;  Annabel's  money  would 
easily  remove  them. 

He  was  under  the  influence  of  these  conflicting 
emotions,  when  Piers  entered  the  room,  with  a 
brusque  hurry  quite  at  variance  with  his  natural 
placid  manner.  The  Duke  started  at  the  clash  of 
the  door.  It  gave  him  a  twinge  of  pain  ;  it  dissi- 
pated his  reveries ;  and  he  asked  petulantly,  "What 
brings  you  here  so  early,  and  so  noisily,  Piers?" 


252     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  I  am  in  great  trouble,  sir.  Squire  Athel- 
ing-" 

"  Squire  Atheling  again !  I  am  weary  of  the 
man !  " 

"  He  has  forbidden  me  to  see  Miss  Atheling." 

"  He  has  done  quite  right.  I  did  not  expect 
so  much  propriety  from  him." 

"  Until  you  give  your  consent  to  our  marriage." 

"  Why,  then,  you  will  see  her  no  more,  Piers. 
I  will  never  give  it.  Never !  We  need  not  mul- 
tiply words.  You  will  marry  Annabel." 

"Suppose  Annabel  will  not  marry  me?" 

"  The  supposition  is  impossible,  therefore 
unnecessary." 

"  If  I  cannot  marry  Miss  Atheling,  I  will  re- 
main unmarried." 

"  That  threat  is  as  old  as  the  world ;  it 
amounts  to  nothing." 

"  On  all  public  and  social  questions,  I  am  your 
obedient  son  and  successor.  I  claim  the  right  to 
choose  my  wife." 

"  A  man  in  your  position,  Piers,  has  not  this 
privilege.  I  had  not.  If  I  had  followed  my 
youthful  desires,  I  should  have  married  an 
Italian  woman.  I  married,  not  to  please  myself, 
but  for  the  good  of  Richmoor ;  and  I  am  glad  to- 
day that  I  did  so.  Your  duty  to  Richmoor  is 
first;  to  yourself,  secondary." 

"  Have  you  anything  against  Miss  Atheling?  " 

"  I  object  to  her  family  —  though  they  are  un- 
doubtedly in  direct  descent  from  the  royal  Saxon 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  253 

family  of  Atheling;  I  object  to  her  poverty;  I 
object  to  her  taking  the  place  of  a  young  lady 
who  has  every  desirable  qualification  for  your 
wife." 

"  Is  there  no  way  to  meet  these  objections, 
sir?" 

"  No  way  whatever."  At  these  words  the 
Duke  stood  painfully  up,  and  said,  with  angry 
emphasis,  "  I  will  not  have  this  subject  mentioned 
to  me  again.  It  is  dead.  I  forbid  you  to  speak 
of  it."  Then  he  rang  the  bell  for  his  Secretary, 
and  gave  him  some  orders.  Lord  Exham  leaned 
against  the  mantelpiece,  lost  in  sorrowful  thought, 
until  the  Duke  turned  to  him  and  said,  — 

"I  am  going  to  ride;  will  you  go  with  me? 
There  are  letters  from  Wetherell  and  Lyndhurst 
to  talk  over." 

"  I  cannot  think  of  politics  at  present.  I 
should  be  no  help  to  you." 

"Your  mother  and  Annabel  are  thinking  of 
going  to  Germany.  I  wish  you  would  persuade 
them  to  stop  at  home.  Is  Annabel  sick?  I  am 
told  she  is." 

"  I  do  not  know,  sir." 

"  You  might  trouble  yourself  to  inquire." 

"  Father,  I  have  never  at  any  time  disobeyed 
you.  Permit  me  to  marry  the  woman  I  love.  In 
all  else,  I  follow  where  you  lead." 

"  Piers,  my  dear  son,  if  my  wisdom  is  sufficient 
for  '  all  else,'  can  you  not  trust  it  in  this  matter? 
Miss  Atheling  is  an  impossibility,  —  mind,  I  say 


254     I>  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

an  impossibility,  —  now,  and  to-morrow,  and  in 
all  the  future.  That  is  enough  about  Miss  Athel- 
ing. Good-afternoon  !  I  feel  far  from  well,  and  I 
will  try  what  a  gallop  may  do  for  me." 

Piers  bowed;  he  could  not  speak.  His  heart 
beat  at  his  lips ;  he  was  choking  with  emotion. 
The  very  attitude  of  the  Duke  rilled  him  with 
despair.  It  permitted  of  no  argument;  it  would 
allow  of  no  hope.  He  knew  the  Squire's  mood 
was  just  as  inexorable  as  his  father's.  Mrs. 
Atheling  had  defined  the  position  very  well,  when 
she  called  the  two  men,  "  upper  and  nether  mill- 
stones." Kate  and  he  were  now  between  them. 
And  there  was  only  one  way  out  of  the  situation 
supposable.  If  Kate  was  willing,  they  could 
marry  without  permission.  The  Rector  of  Bel- 
ward  would  not  be  difficult  to  manage ;  for  the 
Duke  had  nothing  to  do  with  Belward ;  it  was  in 
the  gift  of  Mrs.  Atheling.  On  some  appointed 
morning  Kate  could  meet  him  before  the  little 
altar.  Love  has  ways  and  means  and  messen- 
gers ;  and  his  face  flushed,  and  a  kind  of  angry 
hope  came  into  his  heart  as  this  idea  entered 
it.  Just  then,  he  did  not  consider  how  far  Kate 
would  fall  below  his  best  thoughts  if  it  were 
possible  to  persuade  her  to'  such  clandestine 
disobedience. 

The  Duke  was  pleased  with  himself.  He  felt 
that  he  had  settled  the  disagreeable  question 
promptly  and  kindly ;  and  he  was  cantering 
cheerfully  across  Belward  Bents,  when  he  came 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  255 

suddenly  face  to  face  with  Squire  Atheling.  The 
surprise  was  not  pleasant;  but  he  instantly 
resolved  to  turn  it  to  service. 

"  Squire,"  he  said,  with  a  forced  heartiness, 
"  well  met !  I  thank  you  for  your  co-operation. 
In  forbidding  Lord  Exham  your  daughter's  soci- 
ety, you  have  done  precisely  what  I  wished  you 
to  do." 

"  There  is  no  '  co-operation '  in  the  question, 
Duke.  I  considered  only  Miss  Atheling's  rights 
and  happiness.  And  what  I  have  done,  was  not 
done  for  any  wish  of  yours,  but  to  satisfy  my- 
self. Lord  Exham  is  your  business,  not  mine." 

"  I  have  just  told  him  that  a  marriage  with 
Miss  Atheling  is  out  of  all  consideration;  that 
both  you  and  I  are  of  this  opinion ;  and,  I  may 
add,  that  my  plans  for  Lord  Exham's  future 
would  be  utterly  ruined  by  a  mesalliance  at  this 
time." 

"  You  will  retract  the  word  '  mesalliance? 
Duke.  You  know  Miss  Atheling's  lineage,  and 
that  a  duke  of  the  reigning  family  would  make 
no  '  mesalliance '  in  marrying  her.  I  say  retract 
the  word ! "  and  the  Squire  involuntarily  gave 
emphasis  to  the  order  by  the  passionate  tighten- 
ing of  his  hand  on  his  riding-whip. 

"  I  certainly  retract  any  word  that  gives  you 
offence,  Squire.  I  meant  no  reflection  on  Miss 
Atheling,  who  is  a  most  charming  young 
lady  —  " 

"  There  is  no  more  necessity  for  compliments 


256     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

than  for  —  the  other  thing.  I  have  told  Miss 
Atheling  to  see  Lord  Exham  no  more.  I  will 
make  my  order  still  more  positive  to  her." 

"  Yet,  Squire,  lovers  will  often  outwit  the 
wisest  fathers." 

"  My  daughter  will  give  me  her  word,  and 
she  would  not  be  an  Atheling  if  she  broke  it. 
I  shall  make  her  understand  that  I  will  never  for- 
give her  if  she  allies  herself  with  the  house  of 
Richmoor." 

"  Come,  come,  Squire !  You  need  not  speak 
so  contemptuously  of  the  house  of  Richmoor. 
The  noblest  women  in  England  would  gladly  ally 
themselves  with  my  house." 

"  I  cannot  prevent  them  doing  so ;  but  I  can 
keep  my  own  daughter's  honour,  and  I  will.  Good- 
afternoon,  Duke !  I  hope  this  is  our  last  word 
on  a  subject  so  unpleasant." 

"I  hope  so.  Squire,  there  are  some  important 
letters  from  Lyndhurst  and  Wetherell;  can  you 
come  to  the  Castle  to-morrow  and  talk  them  over 
with  me." 

"  I  cannot,  Duke." 

Then  the  Duke  bowed  haughtily,  and  gave  his 
horse  both  rein  and  whip  ;  and  the  angry  thoughts 
in  his  heart  were,  "  What  a  proud,  perverse  un- 
manageable creature  !  He  was  as  ready  to  strike 
as  to  speak.  If  I  had  been  equally  uncivilised, 
we  should  have  come  to  blows  as  easily  as 
words.  I  am  sorry  I  have  had  any  dealings  with 
the  fellow.  Julia  warned  me  —  a  man  ought  to 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  257 

take  his  wife's  advice  wherever  women  are  factors 
in  a  question.  Confound  the  whole  race  of 
country  squires  !  — they  make  all  the  trouble  that 
is  made." 

Squire  Atheling  had  not  any  more  pleasant 
thoughts  about  dukes ;  but  they  were  an  under- 
current, his  daughter  dominated  them.  He 
dreaded  his  next  interview  with  her,  but  was  not 
inclined  to  put  it  off,  even  when  he  found  her,  on 
his  return  home,  with  Mrs.  Atheling.  She  had 
been  weeping;  she  hardly  dried  her  tears  on  his 
approach.  Her  lovely  face  was  flushed  and 
feverish ;  she  had  the  look  of  a  rose  blown  by  a 
stormy  wind.  He  pushed  his  chair  to  her  side, 
and  gently  drew  her  on  to  his  knees,  and  put  his 
arm  around  her,  as  he  said,  — 

"  My  little  girl,  I  am  sorry !  I  am  sorry !  But 
it  has  to  be,  Kitty.  There  is  no  hope,  and  I  will 
not  fool  thee  with  false  promises.  I  have  just 
had  a  talk  with  Richmoor.  He  was  very  rude, 
very  rude  indeed,  to  thy  father."  She  did  not 
speak  or  lift  her  eyes ;  and  the  Squire  continued, 
"  He  used  a  word  about  a  marriage  with  thee  that 
I  would  not  permit.  I  had  to  bring  him  to  his 
senses." 

"  Oh,  Father !  " 

"Would  you  have  me  sit  quiet  and  hear  the 
Athelings  made  little  of." 

"  No,  Father." 

"  I  thought  not." 

"  After  what  the  Duke  has  said  to  me,  there 
17 


258     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

can  be  no  thought  of  marriage  between  Piers  and 
thee.  Give  him  up,  now  and  forever." 

"  I  cannot." 

"  But  thou  must." 

"  It  will  kill  me." 

"  Not  if  thou  art  the  good,  brave  girl  I  think 
thee.  Piers  is  only  one  little  bit  of  the  happy 
life  thy  good  God  has  given  thee.  Thou  wilt 
still  have  thy  mother,  and  thy  brother,  and  thy 
sweet  home,  and  all  the  honour  and  blessings  of 
thy  lot  in  life  —  and  thy  father,  too,  Kitty.  Is 
thy  father  nobody?" 

Then  she  laid  her  head  on  his  breast  and 
sobbed  bitterly ;  and  the  Squire  could  not  speak. 
He  wept  with  her.  And  sitting  a  little  apart,  but 
watching  them,  Mrs.  Atheling  wept  a  little  also. 
Yet,  in  spite  of  his  emotion,  the  Squire  was  in- 
exorable ;  and  he  continued,  with  stern  and  steady 
emphasis,  "Thou  art  not  to  see  him.  Thou  art 
not  to  write  to  him.  Thou  art  not  even  to  look 
at  him.  Get  him  out  of  thy  life,  root  and  branch. 
It  is  the  only  way.  Come  now,  give  me  thy 
promise." 

"  Let  me  see  him  once  more." 

"  I  will  not.  What  for?  To  pity  one  another, 
and  abuse  every  other  person,  right  or  wrong. 
The  Richmoors  don't  want  thee  among  them  at 
any  price ;  and  if  I  was  thee  I  would  stay  where 
I  was  wanted." 

"  Piers  wants  me." 

"  Now  then,  if  you  must  have  the  whole  bitter 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out   259 

truth,  take  it.  I  don't  believe  Piers  will  have  any 
heartache  wanting  thee.  He  was  here,  there,  and 
everywhere  with  Miss  Vyner,  after  thou  hadst  left 
London;  and  I  saw  the  ring  thou  loanedst  him 
on  her  finger." 

Then  Kate  looked  quickly  up.  Once,  when 
Annabel  had  removed  her  glove,  and  instantly 
replaced  it,  a  vague  suspicion  of  this  fact  had 
given  her  a  shock  that  she  had  named  to  no  one. 
It  seemed  so  incredible  she  could  not  tell  her 
mother.  And  now  her  father's  words  brought 
back  that  moment  of  sick  suspicion,  and  con- 
firmed it. 

"  Are  you  sure  of  what  you  say,  Father?  " 
"  I  will  wage  my  word  and  honour  on  it." 
There  was  a  moment's  intense  silence.  Kate 
glanced  at  her  mother,  who  sat  with  dropped 
eyes,  unconsciously  knitting ;  but  there  was  not 
a  shadow  of  doubt  or  denial  on  her  face.  Then 
she  looked  at  her  father.  His  large  countenance, 
usually  so  red  and  beaming,  was  white  and  drawn 
with  feeling,  and  his  troubled,  aching  soul  looked 
at  her  pathetically  from  the  misty  depths  of  his 
tearful  eyes.  Her  mother  she  might  have  argued 
and  pleaded  with ;  but  the  love  and  anguish  sup- 
plicating her  from  that  bending  face  was  not  to 
be  denied.  She  lifted  her  own  to  it.  She  kissed 
the  pale  cheeks  and  trembling  lips,  and  said, 
clearly,  — 

"  I  promise  what  you  wish,  Father.  I  will  not 
speak  to  Piers,  nor  write  to  him,  nor  even  look  at 


260     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

him  again  —  until  you  say  I  may,"  and  with  the 
words  she  put  her  hand  in  his  for  surety. 

He  rose  to  his  feet  then  and  put  her  in  his 
chair;  but  he  could  not  speak  a  word.  Trem- 
blingly, he  lifted  his  hat  and  stick  and  went  out 
of  the  room ;  and  Mrs.  Atheling  threw  down  her 
knitting,  and  followed  him  to  the  door,  and 
watched  him  going  slowly  through  the  long, 
flagged  passageway.  Her  face  was  troubled 
when  she  returned  to  Kate.  She  lifted  her  knit- 
ting and  threw  it  with  some  temper  into  her  work- 
basket,  and  then  flung  wide  open  the  casement 
and  let  the  fresh  air  into  the  room.  Kate  did 
not  speak;  her  whole  air  and  manner  was  that 
of  injury  and  woe-begone  extremity. 

"  Kate,"  said  her  mother  at  last,  "  Kate,  my 
dear !  This  is  your  first  lesson  in  this  world's 
sorrow.  Don't  be  a  coward  under  it.  Lift  up 
your  heart  to  Him  who  is  always  sufficient." 
"  Oh,  Mother  !  I  think  I  shall  die." 
"  I  would  be  ashamed  to  say  such  words. 
Piers  was  good  and  lovesome,  and  I  do  not 
blame  you  for  loving  him  as  long  as  it  was 
right  to  do  so.  But  when  your  father's  word 
is  against  it,  you  may  be  very  sure  it  is  not  right. 
Father  would  not  give  you  a  moment's  pain,  if 
he  could  help  it." 

"  It  is  too  cruel !     I  cannot  bear  it !  " 
"  Are  you  asked  to  bear  anything  but  what 
women  in  all  ages,  and  in  all  countries,  have  had 
to  bear?     To  give  up  what  you  love  is  always 


Shadow  of  Sorrow  Stretched  Out  261 

hard.  I  have  had  to  give  up  three  fine  sons,  and 
your  dear  little  sister  Edith.  I  have  had  to  give 
up  father,  and  mother,  and  brothers,  and  sisters ; 
but  I  never  once  thought  of  dying.  Whatever 
happens,  happens  with  God's  will,  or  with  God's 
permission ;  so  if  you  can't  give  up  cheerfully  to 
your  father's  will,  do  try  and  say  to  God,  as 
pleasantly  as  you  can,  Thy  Will  be  my  will." 
"  I  thought  you  would  pity  me,  Mother." 
"  I  do,  Kate,  with  all  my  heart.  But  life  has 
more  loves  and  duties  than  one.  If,  in  order  to 
have  Piers,  you  had  to  relinquish  every  one  else, 
would  you  do  so?  No,  you  would  not.  Kate,  I 
love  you,  and  I  pity  you  in  your  great  trial;  and 
I  will  help  you  to  bear  it  as  well  as  I  can.  But  you 
must  bear  it  cheerfully.  I  will  not  have  father 
killed  for  Piers  Exham.  He  Iqoked  very  queerly 
when  he  went  out.  Be  a  brave  girl,  and  if  you  are 
going  to  keep  your  promise,  do  it  cheerfully  —  or 
it  is  not  worth  while." 

"  How  can  I  be  cheerful,  Mother?  " 
"  As  easy  as  not,  if  you  have  a  good,  unselfish 
heart.  You  will  say  to  yourself, '  What  right  have 
I  to  make  every  one  in  the  house  miserable,  be- 
cause I  am  miserable?'  Troubles  must  come  to 
all,  Kitty,  but  troubles  need  not  be  wicked ;  and 
it  is  wicked  to  be  a  destroyer  of  happiness.  I  think 
God  himself  may  find  it  hard  to  forgive  those 
who  selfishly  destroy  the  happiness  of  others, 
just  because  they  are  not  satisfied,  or  have  not 
the  one  thing  they  specially  want.  When  you 


262     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

are  going  to  be  cross  and  unhappy,  say  to  your- 
self, '  I  will  not  be  cross  !  I  will  not  be  unhappy ! 
I  will  not  make  my  good  father  wretched,  and  fill 
his  pleasant  home  with  a  tearful  drizzle,  because 
I  want  to  cry  about  my  own  loss.'  And,  depend 
upon  it,  Kitty,  you  will  find  content  and  happi- 
ness in  making  others  happy.  Good  comes  to 
hearts  prepared  for  good;  but  it  cannot  come 
to  hearts  full  of  worry,  and  fear,  and  selfish 
regrets." 

"  You  are  setting  me  a  hard  lesson,  Mother." 

"I  know  it  is  hard,  Kate.  Life  is  all  a  task; 
yet  we  may  as  well  sing,  as  we  fulfil  it.  Eh, 
dear?" 

Kate  did  not  answer.  She  lifted  her  habit  over 
her  arm,  and  went  slowly  upstairs.  Sorrow  filled 
her  to  the  ears  and  eyes ;  but  her  mother  heard 
her  close  and  then  turn  the  key  in  her  door. 

"  That  is  well,"  she  thought.  "  Now  her  good 
angel  will  find  her  alone  with  God." 


Not  Yet  263 


NOT  YET 

"  MOTHERING  "  is  a  grand  old  word  for  a  quality 
God  can  teach  man  as  well  as  woman ;  and  the 
Squire  really  "mothered"  his  daughter  in  the 
first  days  of  her  great  sorrow.  He  was  always 
at  her  side.  He  was  constantly  needing  her 
help  or  her  company;  and  Kate  was  quite  sensi- 
ble of  the  great  love  with  which  he  encompassed 
her.  At  first  she  was  inexpressibly  desolate. 
She  had  been  suddenly  dislodged  from  that 
life  in  the  heart  of  Piers  which  she  had  so  long 
enjoyed,  and  she  felt  homeless  and  forsaken. 
But  Kate  had  a  sweet  and  beautiful  soul,  noth- 
ing in  it  could  turn  to  bitterness;  and  so  it  was 
not  long  before  she  was  able  to  carry  her  mis- 
fortune as  she  had  carried  her  good  fortune, 
with  cheerfulness  and  moderation. 

For  her  confidence  in  Piers  was  unbroken. 
Not  even  her  father's  assertion  about  the  lost 
ring  could  affect  it.  On  reflection,  she  was  sure 
there  was  a  satisfactory  explanation;  if  not,  it 
was  a  momentary  infidelity  which  she  was  ready 
to  forgive.  And  in  her  determination  to  be 
faithful  to  her  lover,  Mrs.  Atheling  encouraged 


264     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

her.  "Time  brings  us  our  own,  Kitty  dear," 
she  said;  "you  have  a  true  title  to  Piers's  love; 
so,  then,  you  have  a  true  title  to  his  hand.  I 
have  not  a  doubt  that  you  will  be  his  wife." 

"I  think  that,  Mother;  but  why  should  we  be 
separated  now,  and  both  made  to  suffer?" 

"  That  is  earth's  great  mystery,  my  dear,  —  the 
prevalence  of  pain  and  suffering;  no  one  is 
free  from  it.  But  then,  in  the  midst  of  this 
mystery,  is  set  that  Heavenly  Love  which  helps 
us  to  bear  everything.  I  know,  Kitty,  I 
know ! " 

"Father  is  very  hard." 

"  He  is  not.  When  Piers's  father  and  mother 
say  they  will  not  have  you  in  their  house,  do  you 
want  to  slip  into  it  on  the  sly,  or  even  in  defi- 
ance of  them  ?  Wait,  and  your  hour  will  come." 

"  There  is  only  one  way  that  it  can  possibly 
come;  and  that  way  I  dare  not  for  a  moment 
think  of." 

"  No,  indeed !  Who  would  wish  to  enter  the 
house  of  marriage  by  the  gates  of  death  ?  If 
such  a  thought  comes  to  you,  send  it  away  with 
a  prayer  for  the  Duke's  life.  God  can  give  you 
Piers  without  killing  his  father.  He  would  be 
a  poor  God  if  He  could  not.  Whatever  happens 
in  your  life  that  you  cannot  change,  that  is  the 
Will  of  God;  and  to  will  what  God  wills  is  sure 
to  bring  you  peace,  Kitty.  You  have  your 
Prayer-Book;  go  to  the  Blessed  Collects  in  it. 
You  will  be  sure  to  find  among  them  just  the 


Not  Yet  265 

prayer  you  need.  They  never  once  failed  me, 
—  never  once !  " 

"  If  I  could  have  seen  him  just  for  an  hour, 
Mother." 

"  Far  better  not.  Your  last  meeting  with  him 
in  London  was  a  very  happy,  joyous  one.  That 
is  a  good  memory  to  keep.  If  you  met  him  now, 
it  would  only  be  to  weep  and  lament;  and  I  '11 
tell  you  what,  Kitty,  no  crying  woman  leaves  a 
pleasant  impression.  I  want  Piers  to  remember 
you  as  he  saw  you  last,  —  clothed  in  white,  with 
flowers  in  your  hair  and  hands,  and  your  face 
beaming  with  love  and  happiness." 

Many  such  conversations  as  this  one  held  up 
the  girl's  heart,  and  enabled  her,  through  a  pure 
and  steadfast  faith  in  her  lover,  to  enter  — 

" that  finer  atmosphere, 


Where  footfalls  of  appointed  things, 

Reverberant  of  days  to  be, 
Are  heard  in  forecast  echoings ; 

Like  wave-beats  from  a  viewless  sea." 

The  first  week  of  her  trouble  was  the  worst ; 
but  it  was  made  tolerable  by  a  long  letter  from 
Piers  on  the  second  day.  It  came  in  the 
Squire's  mail-bag,  and  he  could  easily  have  re- 
tained it.  But  such  a  course  would  have  been 
absolutely  contradictious  to  his  whole  nature. 
He  held  the  thick  missive  a  moment  in  his 
hand,  and  glanced  at  the  large  red  seal,  lifting 
up  so  prominently  the  Richmoor  arms,  and  then 
said,  — 


266     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  Here  is  a  letter  for  you,  Kitty.  It  is  from 
Piers.  What  am  I  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  Please,  Father,  give  it  to  me. " 

"Give  it  to  her,  Father,"  said  Mrs.  Atheling; 
and  Kate's  eager  face  pleaded  still  more  strongly. 
Rather  reluctantly,  he  pushed  the  letter  towards 
Kate,  saying,  "I  would  as  leave  not  give  it  to 
thee,  but  I  can  trust  to  thy  honour." 

"You  may  trust  me,  Father,"  she  answered. 
And  the  Squire  was  satisfied  with  his  relenting, 
when  she  came  to  him  a  few  hours  later,  and 
said,  "Thank  you  for  giving  me  my  letter, 
Father.  It  has  made  my  trouble  a  great  deal 
lighter.  Now,  Father,  will  you  do  me  one  more 
favour  ? " 

"Well,  dear,  what  is  it?" 

"  See  Piers  for  me,  and  tell  him  of  the  promise 
I  made  to  you.  Say  I  cannot  break  it,  but  that 
I  send,  by  you,  my  thanks  for  his  letter,  and  my 
love  forever  more." 

"I  can't  tell  him  about  'love  forever  more,' 
Kitty.  That  won't  do  at  all." 

"Tell  him,  then,  that  all  he  says  to  me  I  say 
to  him.  Dear  Father,  make  that  much  clear  to 
him." 

"John,  do  what  Kitty  asks  thee.  It  isn't 
much." 

"A  man  can't  have  his  way  in  this  house  with 
two  women  to  coax  or  bully  him  out  of  it. 
What  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"Just  what  Kitty  asks  you  to  do." 


Not  Yet  267 

"  Please,  Father ! "  And  the  two  words  were 
sent  straight  to  the  father's  heart  with  a  kiss 
and  a  caress  that  were  irresistible.  Three  days 
afterwards  the  Squire  came  home  from  a  ride, 
very  much  depressed.  He  was  cross  with  the 
servant  who  unbuttoned  his  gaiters,  and  he 
looked  resentfully  at  Mrs.  Atheling  as  she 
entered  the  room. 

"A  nice  message  I  was  sent,"  he  said  to  her 
as  soon  as  they  were  alone.  "  That  young  man 
has  given  me  a  heart-ache.  He  has  made  me 
think  right  is  wrong.  He  has  made  me  feel 
as  if  I  was  the  wickedest  father  in  Yorkshire. 
And  I  know,  in  my  soul,  that  I  am  doing  right ; 
and  that  there  isn't  a  better  father  in  the  three 
kingdoms." 

"  Whatever  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  He  said  I  was  to  tell  Kate  that  from  the 
East  to  the  West,  and  from  the  North  to  the 
South,  he  would  love  her.  That  from  that 
moment  to  the  moment  of  death,  and  throughout 
all  eternity,  he  would  love  her.  And  I  stopped 
him  there  and  then,  and  said  I  would  carry  no 
message  that  went  beyond  the  grave.  And  he 
said  I  was  to  tell  her  that  neither  for  father  nor 
mother,  nor  for  the  interests  of  the  dukedom, 
nor  for  the  command  of  the  King,  would  he 
marry  any  woman  but  her.  And  I  was  fool 
enough  to  be  sorry  for  him,  and  to  promise  I 
would  give  him  Kate,  with  my  blessing,  when 
his  father  and  mother  asked  me  to  do  so." 


268     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"I  don't  think  that  was  promising  very  much, 
John." 

"Thou  knowest  nothing  of  how  I  feel,  Maude. 
But  he  is  a  good  man,  and  true;  I  think  so,  at 
any  rate." 

"Tell  Kitty  what  he  said." 

"  Nay,  you  must  tell  her  if  you  want  her  to 
know.  I  would  rather  not  speak  of  Piers  at  all. 
Tell  her,  also,  that  the  Duchess  and  Miss  Vyner 
are  going  to  Germany,  and  that  Piers  goes  with 
them  as  far  as  London.  I  am  very  glad  of  this 
move,  for  we  can  ride  about,  then,  without  fear 
of  meeting  them." 

All  the  comfort  to  be  got  from  this  conversa- 
tion and  intelligence  was  given  at  once  to  Kate ; 
and  perhaps  Mrs.  Atheling  unavoidably  made  it 
more  emphatic  than  the  Squire's  manner  war- 
ranted. She  did  not  overstep  the  truth,  how- 
ever, for  Piers  had  spoken  from  his  very  heart, 
and  with  the  most  passionate  love  and  confi- 
dence. Indeed,  the  Squire's  transcript  had  been 
but  a  bald  and  lame  translation  of  the  young 
man's  fervent  expressions  of  devotion  and 
constancy. 

Kate  understood  this,  and  she  was  comforted. 
Invincible  Hope  was  at  the  bottom  of  all  her 
sorrow,  and  she  soon  began  to  look  on  the  cir- 
cumstances as  merely  transitory.  Yet  she  had 
moments  of  great  trial.  One  evening,  while 
walking  with  her  mother  a  little  on  the  outskirts 
of  Atheling,  the  Duke's  carriage,  with  its  splen- 


Not  Yet  269 

did  outriders,  suddenly  turned  into  the  little 
lane.  There  was  no  escape,  and  they  looked  at 
each  other  bravely,  and  stood  still  upon  the  turf 
bordering  the  road.  Then  the  Duchess  gave  an 
order  to  the  coachman.  There  was  difficulty  in 
getting  the  horses  to  the  precise  spot  which  was 
best  for  conversation;  but  Mrs.  Atheling  would 
not  take  a  step  forward  or  backward  to  relieve 
it.  She  stood  with  her  hand  on  Kate's  arm, 
Kate's  hands  being  full  of  the  blue-bells  which 
she  had  been  gathering. 

The  carriage  contained  only  the  Duchess  and 
Annabel.  There  had  been  no  overt  unpleasant- 
ness between  the  ladies  of  the  two  families,  and 
Mrs.  Atheling  would  not  take  the  initiative, 
especially  when  the  question  was  one  referring  to 
the  most  delicate  circumstances  of  her  daugh- 
ter's life.  She  talked  with  the  Duchess  of  her 
German  trip,  and  Kate  gave  Annabel  the  flowers, 
and  hoped  she  would  enjoy  her  new  experience. 
In  five  minutes  the  interview  was  over;  nothing 
but  courteous  words  had  been  said,  and  yet  Mrs. 
Atheling  and  Kate  had,  somehow,  a  sense  of 
intense  humiliation.  The  Duchess's  manner  had 
been  politely  patronising,  Annabel's  languid 
and  indifferent;  and,  in  some  mysterious  way, 
the  servants  echoed  this  covert  atmosphere  of 
disdain.  Little  things  are  so  momentous;  and 
the  very  attitude  of  the  two  parties  was  against 
the  Athelings.  From  their  superb  carriage,  as 
from  a  throne,  the  Duchess  and  her  companion 


270     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

looked  down  on  the  two  simply-dressed  ladies 
who  had  been  gathering  wild  flowers  on  the 
roadside. 

"  How  provoking ! "  was  Kate's  first  utterance. 
"Mother,  I  will  not  walk  outside  the  garden 
again  until  they  go  away;  I  will  not ! " 

"  I  am  ashamed  of  you ! "  answered  Mrs.  Athel- 
ing,  angrily.  "  Will  you  make  yourself  a  prisoner 
for  these  two  women?  Tusk!  Who  are  they? 
Be  yourself,  and  who  is  better  than  you  ? " 

"  It  is  easy  talking,  Mother.  You  are  as 
much  annoyed  as  I  am.  How  did  they  manage 
to  snub  us  so  politely?" 

"  Position  is  everything,  Kate.  A  woman  in 
a  Duke's  carriage,  with  outriders  in  scarlet,  and 
coachmen  and  footmen  in  silver-laced  liveries, 
would  snub  the  Virgin  Mary  if  she  met  her  in  a 
country  lane,  dressed  in  pink  dimity,  and  gather- 
ing blue-bells.  Try  and  forget  the  affair. " 

"Annabel  looked  ill." 

"  It  was  her  white  dress.  A  woman  with  her 
skin  ought  to  know  better  than  to  wear  white." 

"  Oh,  Mother !  if  Piers  had  been  with  them, 
what  should  I  have  done?  " 

"  I  wish  he  had  been  there  !  You  were  never 
more  lovely.  I  saw  you  for  a  moment,  standing 
at  the  side  of  the  carriage;  with  your  brown  hair 
blowing,  and  your  cheeks  blushing,  and  your 
hands  full  of  flowers,  and  I  thought  how  beautiful 
you  were;  and  I  wish  Piers  had  been  there." 

"  They  go  away  on  Saturday.     I  shall  be  glad 


Not  Yet  271 

when  Saturday  is  over.  I  do  not  think  I  could 
bear  to  see  Piers.  I  should  make  a  little  fool  of 
myself." 

"  Not  you !  Not  you !  But  it  is  just  as  well 
to  keep  out  of  danger. " 

Certainly  neither  the  Squire  nor  Kate  had  any 
idea  of  meeting  Piers  on  the  following  Saturday 
night  when  they  rode  along  Atheling  lane 
together.  Both  of  them  believed  Piers  to  be 
far  on  the  way  to  London.  They  had  been  to 
the  village,  and  were  returning  slowly  home- 
ward in  the  gloaming.  A  light  like  that  of 
dreamland  was  lying  over  all  the  scene;  and  the 
silence  of  the  far-receding  hills  was  intensified 
by  the  murmur  of  the  streams,  and  the  sleepy 
piping  of  a  solitary  bird.  The  subtle,  fugitive, 
indescribable  fragrance  of  lilies-of-the-valley 
was  in  the  air;  and  a  sense  of  brooding  power, 
of  mystical  communion  between  man  and  nature, 
had  made  both  the  Squire  and  Kate  sympathet- 
ically silent. 

Suddenly  there  was  the  sound  of  horse's  feet 
coming  towards  them;  and  the  figure  of  its  rider 
loomed  large  and  spectral  in  the  gray,  uncertain 
light.  Kate  knew  instantly  who  it  was.  In  a 
moment  or  two  they  must  needs  pass  each  other. 
She  looked  quickly  into  her  father's  face,  and 
he  said  huskily,  "Be  brave,  Kate,  be  brave!" 

The  words  had  barely  been  spoken,  when 
Piers  slowly  passed  them.  He  removed  his 
hat,  and  the  Squire  did  the  same ;  but  Kate  sat 


272     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

with  dropped  eyes,  white  as  marble.  From  her 
nerveless  hands  the  reins  had  fallen ;  she  swayed 
in  her  saddle,  and  the  Squire  leaned  towards  her 
with  encouraging  touch  and  words.  But  she 
could  hear  nothing  but  the  hurrying  flight  of  her 
lover,  and  the  despairing  cry  which  the  wind 
brought  sadly  back  as  he  rode  rapidly  up  the 
little  lane,  — 

"Kate!     Kate!    Kate!" 

Fortunately,  news  of  Miss  Curzon's  and 
Edgar's  arrival  at  Ashley  Hall  came  to  Athel- 
ing  that  very  hour;  and  the  Squire  and  Mrs. 
Atheling  were  much  excited  at  their  proposal  to 
lunch  at  Atheling  Manor  the  next  day.  Kate 
had  to  put  aside  her  own  feelings,  and  unite  in 
the  family  joy  of  reunion.  There  was  a  happy 
stir  of  preparation,  and  the  Squire  dressed  him- 
self with  particular  care  to  meet  his  son  and  his 
new  daughter.  As  soon  as  he  heard  of  their 
approach,  he  went  to  the  open  door  to  meet 
them. 

To  Edgar  he  gave  his  right  hand,  with  a  look 
which  cancelled  every  hard  word;  and  then  he 
lifted  little  Annie  Curzon  from  her  horse,  and 
kissed  her  on  the  doorstep  with  fatherly  affec- 
tion. And  between  Kate  and  Annie  a  warm 
friendship  grew  apace;  and  the  girls  were  con- 
tinually together,  and  thus,  insensibly,  Kate's 
sorrow  was  lightened  by  mutual  confidence  and 
affection. 

Early  in  June  the  Squire  and  Edgar  were  to 


Not  Yet  273 

return  to  London,  for  Parliament  re-opened  on 
the  fourteenth;  and  a  few  days  before  their 
departure  Mrs.  Atheling  asked  her  husband  one 
afternoon  to  take  a  drive  with  her.  "To  be 
sure  I  will,  Maude,"  he  answered.  "It  isn't 
twice  in  a  twelvemonth  thou  makest  me  such  an 
offer. "  She  was  in  her  own  little  phaeton,  and 
the  Squire  settled  himself  comfortably  at  her 
side,  and  took  the  reins  from  her  hands.  "  Which 
way  are  we  to  go?  "  he  asked. 

"We  will  go  first  to  Gisbourne  Gates,  and 
maybe  as  far  as  Belward." 

The  Squire  wondered  a  little  at  her  direction, 
for  she  knew  Gisbourne  was  rather  a  sore 
subject  with  him.  As  they  approached  the  big 
iron  portals,  rusty  on  all  their  hinges  from  long 
neglect,  he  could  not  avoid  saying,  — 

"  It  is  a  shame  beyond  everything  that  I  have 
not  yet  been  able  to  buy  Gisbourne.  The  place 
has  been  wanting  a  master  for  fifteen  years ;  and  it 
lays  between  Atheling  and  Belward  as  the  middle 
finger  lays  between  the  first  and  the  third.  I 
thought  I  might  manage  it  next  year;  but  this 
Parliament  business  has  put  me  a  good  bit  back." 

"  Many  things  have  put  you  back,  John. 
There  was  Edgar's  college  expenses,  and  the 
hard  times,  and  what  not  beside.  Look,  John ! 
the  gates  are  open.  Let  us  drive  in.  It  is 
twenty  years  since  I  saw  Gisbourne  Towers. " 

"  The  gates  are  open.  What  does  that  mean, 
Maude  ? " 

18 


274     I>  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"I  suppose  somebody  has  bought  the  place." 

"I'm  afraid  so." 

"  Never  mind,  John. " 

"  But  I  do  mind.  The  kind  of  neighbour  we 
are  to  have  is  a  very  important  thing.  They 
will  live  right  between  Atheling  and  Belward. 
The  Gisbournes  were  a  fine  Tory  family.  Athel- 
ing and  Gisbourne  were  always  friends.  My 
father  and  Sir  Antony  went  to  the  hunt  and  the 
hustings  together.  They  were  finger  and  thumb 
in  all  county  matters.  It  will  be  hard  to  get  as 
good  a  master  of  Gisbourne  as  Sir  Antony  was." 

"John,  I  have  a  bit  of  right  good  news  for 
thee.  Edgar  is  going  to  take  Sir  Antony's 
place.  Will  Edgar  do  for  a  neighbour  ?  " 

"Whatever  art  thou  saying,  Maude?  " 

"The  very  truth.  Miss  Curzon  has  bought 
Gisbourne.  Lord  Ashley  advised  her  to  do  so ; 
and  she  has  brought  down  a  big  company  of 
builders  and  such  people,  and  the  grand  old 
house  is  to  be  made  the  finest  home  in  the 
neighbourhood.  She  showed  me  the  plans  yes- 
terday, and  I  promised  her  to  bring  thee  over  to 
Gisbourne  this  afternoon  to  meet  her  architect 
and  Lord  Ashley  and  Edgar.  See,  they  are 
waiting  on  the  terrace  for  thee;  for  they  want 
thy  advice  and  thy  ideas." 

It  was,  indeed,  a  wonderful  afternoon.  The 
gentlemen  went  into  consultation  with  the  archi- 
tect, and  a  great  many  of  the  Squire's  sugges- 
tions were  received  with  enthusiastic  approval. 


Not  Yet  275 

Mrs.  Atheling,  Kate,  and  Annie  went  through 
the  long-deserted  rooms,  and  talked  of  what 
should  be  done  to  give  them  modern  convenience 
and  comfort,  without  detracting  from  their  air  of 
antique  splendour.  Then  at  five  o'clock  the 
whole  party  met  in  the  faded  drawing-room  and 
had  tea,  with  sundry  additions  of  cold  game  and 
pasties,  and  discussed,  together,  the  proposed 
plans.  At  sunset  the  parties  separated  at  Gis- 
bourne  Gates,  Kate  going  with  Miss  Curzon  to 
Ashley,  and  the  Squire  and  Mrs.  Atheling  re- 
turning to  their  own  home.  The  Squire  was  far 
too  much  excited  to  be  long  quiet. 

"  They  were  very  glad  of  my  advice,  Maude, " 
he  said,  as  soon  as  the  last  good-bye  had  been 
spoken.  "Ashley  seconded  nearly  all  I  pro- 
posed. He  is  a  fine  fellow.  I  wish  I  had  known 
him  long  ago." 

"Well,  John,  nobody  can  give  better  advice 
than  you  can." 

"And  you  see  I  know  Gisbourne,  and  what 
can  be  done  with  it.  Bless  your  soul !  I  used 
to  be  able  to  tell  every  kind  of  bird  that  built 
in  Gisbourne  Chase,  and  where  to  find  their 
nests  —  though  I  never  robbed  a  nest ;  I  can  say 
that  much  for  myself.  Well,  Edgar  has  done 
a  grand  thing  for  Atheling,  and  no  mistake." 

"I  told  you  Edgar  — " 

"  Now,  Maude,  Edgar  and  me  have  washed  the 
slate  between  us  clean.  It  is  not  thy  place  to 
be  itemising  now.  I  say  Edgar  has  done  well  for 


276     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Atheling,  and  I  don't  care  who  says  different.  I 
haven't  had  such  a  day  since  my  wedding  day. 
Edgar  in  Gisbourne !  An  Atheling  in  Gisbourne ! 
My  word !  Who  would  have  thought  of  such  a 
thing?  I  could  n't  hardly  have  asked  it." 

"  I  should  think  not.  There  are  very  few  of 
us,  John,  would  have  the  face  to  ask  for  half  of 
the  good  things  the  good  God  gives  us  without 
a  '  please  '  or  a  '  thank  you. ' ' 

"Belward!  Gisbourne!  Atheling!  It  will 
be  all  Atheling  when  I  am  gone." 

"Not  it!  I  do  not  want  Belward  to  be  sunk 
in  that  way.  Belward  is  as  old  as  Atheling." 

"In  a  way,  Maude,  in  a  way.  It  was  once 
a  part  of  Atheling;  so  was  Gisbourne.  As  for 
sinking  the  name,  thou  sunkest  thy  name  in 
Atheling;  why  not  sink  the  land's  name,  eh, 
Maude?  " 

And  until  the  Squire  and  Edgar  left  for  Lon- 
don, such  conversations  were  his  delight;  in- 
deed, he  rather  regretted  his  Parliamentary 
obligations,  and  envied  his  wife  and  daughter 
the  delightful  interest  that  had  come  into  their 
lives.  For  they  really  found  it  delightful;  and 
all  through  the  long,  sweet,  summer  days  it 
never  palled,  because  it  was  always  a  fresh  wing, 
or  a  fresh  gallery,  cabinet-work  in  one  parlour, 
upholstery  work  in  another,  the  freshly  laid-out 
gardens,  the  cleared  chase,  the  new  stables  and 
kennels.  Even  the  gates  were  a  subject  of  inter- 
esting debate  as  to  whether  the  fine  old  ones 


Not  Yet  277 

should  be  restored  or  there  should  be  still  finer 
new  ones. 

Thus  between  Atheling,  Ashley,  and  Gis- 
bourne,  week  after  week  passed  happily.  Kate 
did  not  forget,  did  not  cease  to  love  and  to 
hope;  she  just  bided  her  time,  waiting,  in 
patience,  for  Fortune  to  bring  in  the  ship  that 
longed  for  the  harbour  but  could  not  make  it. 
And  with  so  much  to  fill  her  hours  joyfully, 
how  ungrateful  she  would  have  been  to  fret  over 
the  one  thing  denied  her!  The  return  of  the 
Squire  and  Edgar  was  very  uncertain.  Both  of 
them,  in  their  letters,  complained  bitterly  of 
the  obstructive  policy  which  the  Tories  still 
unwaveringly  carried  out.  It  was  not  until  the 
twelfth  of  July  that  the  Bill  got  into  Com- 
mittee; and  there  it  was  harassed  and  delayed 
night  after  night  by  debates  on  every  one  of  its 
clauses.  This  plan  of  obstructing  it  occupied 
thirty-nine  sittings,  so  that  it  did  not  reach  the 
House  of  Lords  until  the  twenty-second  of  Sep- 
tember. The  Squire's  letter  at  this  point  was 
short  and  despondent :  — 

DEAR  WIFE, — The  Bill  has  gone  to  the  Lords.  I 
expect  they  will  send  it  to  the  devil.  I  am  fairly  tired 
out ;  and,  with  all  my  heart,  I  wish  myself  at  Atheling. 
It  may  be  Christmas  before  I  get  there.  Do  as  well 
as  you  can  till  I  come.  Tell  Kitty,  I  would  give  a 
sovereign  for  a  sight  of  her. 

Your  affectionate  Husband, 

JOHN  ATHELING. 


278     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

About  a  couple  of  weeks  after  this  letter,  one 
evening  in  October,  Mrs.  Atheling,  Kate,  and 
Annie  were  returning  to  Atheling  House  from 
Gisbourne,  where  they  had  been  happily  busy 
all  the  afternoon.  They  were  easy-hearted,  but 
rather  quiet;  each  in  that  mood  of  careless 
stillness  which  broods  on  its  own  joy  or  sorrow. 
The  melancholy  of  the  autumn  night  influenced 
them,  — calm,  pallid,  and  a  little  sad,  with  a  dull, 
soft  murmur  among  the  firs,  —  so  they  did  not 
hurry,  and  it  was  nearly  dark  when  they  came 
in  sight  of  the  house.  Then  Mrs.  Atheling 
roused  herself.  "How  good  a  cup  of  tea  will 
taste,"  she  said;  "and  I  dare  say  it  is  waiting, 
for  Ann  has  lighted  the  room,  I  see."  Laugh- 
ing and  echoing  her  remark,  they  reached  the 
parlour.  On  opening  the  door,  Mrs.  Atheling 
uttered  a  joyful  cry. 

"  Why,  John !     Why,  Edgar !  " 

"To  be  sure,  Maude,"  answered  the  Squire, 
leaping  up  and  taking  her  in  his  arms.  "I 
wonder  how  thou  feelest  to  have  thy  husband 
come  home  and  find  thee  out  of  the  house,  and 
not  a  bit  of  eating  ready  for  him." 

Then  Mrs.  Atheling  pointed  to  the  table,  and 
said,  "  I  do  not  think  there  is  any  need  for  com- 
plaint, John." 

"No;  we  managed,  Edgar  and  me,  by  good 
words  and  bad  words,  to  get  something  for  our- 
selves —  "  and  he  waved  his  hand  complacently 
over  the  table,  loaded  with  all  kinds  of  eatables, 


Not  Yet  279 

—  a  baron  of  cold  beef,  cold  Yorkshire  pudding, 
a  gypsy  pie,  Indian  preserves,  raspberry  tarts, 
clotted  cream,  roast  apples,  cheese  celery,  fine 
old  ale,  strong  gunpowder  tea,  and  a  variety  of 
condiments. 

"  What  do  you  call  this  meal,  John  ?  " 

"  I  call  it  a  decent  kind  of  a  tea,  and  I  want 
thee  to  try  and  learn  something  from  its  exam- 
ple." Then  he  kissed  her  again,  and  looked 
anxiously  round  for  Kitty. 

"Come  here,  my  little  girl,"  he  cried;  and 
Kitty,  who  had  been  feeling  a  trifle  neglected, 
forgot  everything  but  the  warmth  and  gladness  of 
her  father's  love  and  welcome.  Edgar  had  found 
Annie  a  seat  beside  his  own,  and  the  Squire  man- 
aged to  get  his  place  between  his  wife  and  his 
daughter.  Then  the  "  cup  of  tea  "  Mrs.  Atheling 
had  longed  for  became  a  protracted  home  festi- 
val. But  they  could  not  keep  politics  out  of  its 
atmosphere ;  they  were,  indeed,  so  blended  with 
the  life  of  that  time  that  their  separation  from 
household  matters  was  impossible,  and  the  Squire 
was  no  more  anxious  to  hear  about  his  hunters 
and  his  harvest,  than  Mrs.  Atheling  was  to  know 
the  fate  of  the  Reform  Bill. 

"It  has  passed  at  last,  I  suppose,  John,"  she 
said,  with  an  air  of  satisfied  certainty. 

"Thou  supposest  very  far  wrong,  then.  It 
has  been  rejected  again." 

"Never!  Never!  Never!  Oh,  John,  John! 
It  is  not  possible!" 


280     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"The  Lords  did,  as  I  told  thee  they  would,  — 
that  is,  the  Lords  and  the  bishops  together." 

"The  bishops  ought  to  be  unfrocked,"  cried 
Edgar,  with  considerable  temper.  "  Only  one 
in  all  their  number  voted  for  Reform." 

"I'll  never  go  to  church  again,"  said  Mrs. 
Atheling,  in  her  unreasonable  anger. 

"Tell  us  about  it,  Father,"  urged  Kate. 

"  Well,  you  see,  Mr.  Peel  and  Mr.  Croker  led 
our  party  against  the  Bill ;  and  Croker  is  clever, 
there  is  no  doubt  of  that." 

"Not  to  be  compared  to  Lord  Althorp,  our 
leader, — so  calm,  so  courageous,  so  upright," 
said  Edgar. 

"Nobody  denies  it;  but  Croker's  practical, 
vigorous  views  —  " 

"You  mean  his  'sanguine  despondency,'  his 
delight  in  describing  England  as  bankrupt  and 
ruined  by  Reform." 

"I  mean  nothing  of  the  kind,  Edgar;  but  —  " 

"Did  the  Bill  pass  the  Commons,  Father?" 
asked  Kate. 

"  It  did ;  although  in  fifteen  days  Peel  spoke 
forty-eight  times  against  it,  and  Croker  fifty- 
seven  times,  and  Wetherell  fifty-eight  times. 
But  all  they  could  say  was  just  so  many  lost 
words." 

"Think  of  such  men  disputing  the  right  of 
Manchester,  Leeds,  and  Birmingham  to  be  repre- 
sented in  the  House  of  Commons !  What  do  you 
say  to  that,  Mother?" 


Not  Yet  281 

"  I  only  hope  father  was  n't  in  such  a  stupid  bit 
of  business,  Edgar."  And  the  Squire  drank  a 
glass  of  ale,  and  pretended  not  to  hear. 

"  But, "  continued  Edgar,  "  we  never  lost  heart  ; 
for  all  over  the  country,  and  in  every  quarter  of 
London,  they  were  holding  meetings  urging  us 
not  to  give  way,  —  not  to  give  way  an  inch.  We 
were  fighting  for  all  England;  and,  as  Lord 
Althorp  said,  we  were  ready  to  keep  Parliament 
sitting  till  next  December,  or  even  to  next 
December  twelvemonth." 

"I'll  warrant  you!"  interrupted  the  Squire. 
"Well,  Edgar,  you  passed  your  Bill  in  a  fine 
uproar  of  triumph;  all  London  in  the  street, 
shouting  thanks  to  Althorp  and  the  others  — 
Edgar  Atheling  among  them. "  Then  the  Squire 
paused  and  looked  at  his  son,  and  Mrs.  Atheling 
asked,  impatiently,  — 

"What  then,  John?" 

"Why,  then,  Lord  John  Russell  and  Lord 
Althorp  carried  the  Bill  to  the  House  of  Lords. 
It  was  a  great  scene.  The  Duke  told  me  about 
it.  He  said  nearly  every  peer  was  in  his  seat; 
and  a  large  number  of  peeresses  had  been  ad- 
mitted at  the  bar,  and  every  inch  of  space  in  the 
House  was  crowded.  The  Lord  Chancellor  took 
his  seat  at  the  Woolsack ;  and  the  Deputy 
Usher  of  the  Black  Rod  threw  open  the  doors, 
crying,  '  A  Message  from  the  Commons. '  Then 
Lord  John  Russell  and  Lord  Althorp,  at  the 
head  of  one  hundred  Members  of  the  House  of 


282     I,  Thousand  the  Other  One 

Commons,  entered,  and  delivered  the  Bill  to  the 
Lord  Chancellor." 

"  Oh,  how  I  should  have  liked  to  have  been 
present ! "  said  Kate. 

"  Well,  some  day  thou  —  "  and  then  the  Squire 
suddenly  stopped;  but  the  unfinished  thought 
was  flashed  to  every  one  present,  —  "  some  day 
thou  mayst  be  Duchess  of  Richmoor,  and  have 
the  right  to  be  present  ;  "  and  Kate  was  pleased, 
and  felt  her  heart  warm  to  conscious  hope.  She 
caught  her  mother  watching  her,  and  smiled; 
and  Mrs.  Atheling,  instantly  sensitive  to  the 
unspoken  feeling,  avoided  comment  by  her  eager 
inquiry,  — 

"  Whatever  did  they  say,  John  ?  " 

"  They  said  the  usual  words ;  but  the  Duke  told 
me  there  was  a  breathless  silence,  and  that  Lord 
John  Russell  said  them  with  the  most  unusual 
and  impressive  emphasis :  '  My  Lords,  the  House 
of  Commons  have  passed  an  Act  to  Amend  the 
Representation  of  England  and  Wales,  to  which 
they  desire  your  Lordships'  Concurrence. ' 
Lord  Grey  opened  the  debate.  I  dare  say  Edgar 
knows  all  about  it.  I  believe  Grey  is  his 
leader. " 

"Yes,"  answered  Edgar,  "and  very  proud  I 
am  of  my  leader.  He  is  in  his  sixty-eighth 
year,  and  he  stood  there  that  night  to  advocate 
the  measure  he  proposed  forty  years  before,  in 
the  House  of  Commons.  Althorp  told  me  he 
spoke  with  a  strange  calmness  and  solemnity, 


Not  Yet  283 

'for  the  just  claims  of  the  people ;  '  but  as  soon 
as  he  sat  down  Lord  Wharncliffe  moved  that  the 
Bill  be  rejected  altogether." 

"That  was  like  Wharncliffe,"  said  the  Squire. 
"  No  half  measures  for  him. " 

"Wellington  followed,  and  wanted  to  know, 
'  How  the  King's  government  was  to  be  carried 
on  by  the  will  of  a  turbulent  democracy? ' : 

"Wellington  would  govern  with  a  sword  in- 
stead of  a  sceptre.  He  would  try  every  cause 
round  a  drum -head.  I  am  not  with  Welling- 
ton." 

"  Lord  Dudley  followed  in  an  elegant,  classi- 
cal speech,  also  against  the  Bill." 

The  Squire  laughed.  "I  heard  about  that 
speech.  Did  not  Brougham  call  it,  '  An  essay  or 
exercise  of  the  highest  merit,  on  democracies  — 
but  not  on  this  Bill. ' ' 

"  Yes.  Brougham  can  say  very  polite  and  very 
disagreeable  things.  He  spoke  on  the  fifth  and 
last  night  of  the  debate.  Earl  Grey  said  a  more 
splendid  declamation  was  never  made.  All 
London  is  now  quoting  one  passage  which  he 
addressed  to  the  Lords :  '  Justice  deferred, '  he 
said,  '  enhances  the  price  at  which  you  will  pur- 
chase your  own  safety;  nor  can  you  expect  to 
gather  any  other  crop  than  they  did  who  went 
before  you,  if  you  persevere  in  their  utterly 
abominable  husbandry  of  sowing  injustice  and 
reaping  rebellion. '  " 

"Fine   words,   Edgar,  fine   words;    just   like 


284     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Brougham,  —  catch-words,  to  take  the  common 
people." 

"They  did  not,  however,  alarm  or  take  the 
Lords.  My  leader  closed  the  debate,  and  in  a 
magnificent  speech  implored  the  archbishops  and 
bishops  not  to  vote  against  the  Bill,  and  thus 
stand  before  the  people  of  England  as  the  ene- 
mies of  a  just  and  moderate  scheme  of  Reform." 

"And  yet  they  voted  against  it!"  said  Mrs. 
Atheling.  "  I  am  downright  ashamed  of  them. 
The  very  date  ought  to  be  put  up  against  them 
forever. " 

"It  was  the  seventh  of  October.  All  night 
long,  until  the  dawning  of  the  eighth,  the  debate 
was  continued;  and  until  three  hours  after 
midnight,  Palace  Yard,  and  the  streets  about 
Westminster,  were  crowded  with  anxious  watch- 
ers, though  the  weather  was  cold  and  miserably 
wet.  Towards  morning  their  patience  was  ex- 
hausted ;  and  when  the  carriages  of  the  peers  and 
bishops  rolled  out  in  broad  daylight  there  was 
no  one  there  to  greet  them  with  the  execrations 
and  hisses  they  deserved.  The  whole  of  our 
work  this  session  in  the  Commons  has  been  done 
in  vain.  But  we  shall  win  next  time,  even  if  we 
compel  the  King  to  create  as  many  new  Reform 
peers  as  will  pass  the  Bill  in  spite  of  the  old 
Lords." 

"  Edgar,  you  are  talking  nonsense  —  if  not 
treason. " 

"  Pardon  me,  Father.     I  am  only  giving  you 


Not  Yet  285 

the  ultimatum  of  Reform.  The  Bill  must  pass 
the  Lords  next  session,  or  you  may  call  Reform 
Revolution.  The  people  are  particularly  angry 
at  the  bishops.  They  dare  not  appear  on  the 
streets;  curses  follow  them,  and  their  carriages 
have  been  repeatedly  stoned." 

"  There  is  a  verse  beginning,  '  Inasmuch  as  ye 
did  it  not,'  etc.,  — I  wonder  if  they  will  ever 
dare  to  repeat  it  again.  They  will  do  the  church 
a  deal  of  harm. " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Edgar.  "The  church  does  not 
stand  on  the  bishops." 

"  Be  easy  with  the  bishops,"  added  the  Squire. 
"  They  have  to  scheme  a  bit  in  order  to  get  the 
most  out  of  both  worlds.  They  scorn  to  answer 
the  people  according  to  their  idols.  They  are 
politically  right." 

"No,  sir,"  said  Edgar.  "Whatever  is  morally 
wrong  cannot  be  politically  right.  The  church 
is  well  represented  by  the  clergy;  they  have 
generally  sympathised  with  the  people.  One  of 
them,  indeed,  called  Smith  —  Sydney  Smith  — 
made  a  speech  at  Taunton,  three  days  after  our 
defeat,  that  has  gone  like  wild-fire  throughout 
the  length  and  breadth  of  England;  "  and  Edgar 
took  a  paper  out  of  his  pocket,  and  read,  with 
infinite  delight  and  appreciation,  the  pungent 
wit  which  made  "Mrs.  Partington "  famous 
throughout  Christendom  :  — • 

"  As  for  the  possibility  of  the  House  of  Lords  pre- 
venting a  reform  of  Parliament,  I  hold  it  to  be  the 


286     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

most  absurd  notion  that  ever  entered  into  human 
imagination.  I  do  not  mean  to  be  disrespectful,  but 
the  attempt  of  the  Lords  to  stop  the  progress  of 
Reform  reminds  me  very  forcibly  of  the  great  storm  at 
Sidmouth,  and  of  the  conduct  of  the  excellent  Mrs. 
Partington  on  that  occasion.  In  the  winter  of  1824, 
there  set  in  a  great  flood  upon  that  town ;  the  waves 
rushed  in  upon  the  houses ;  and  everything  was  threat- 
ened with  destruction.  In  the  midst  of  this  sublime 
and  terrible  storm,  Dame  Partington  —  who  lived 
upon  the  beach  —  was  seen  at  the  door  of  her  house, 
with  mop  and  pattens,  trundling  her  mop,  squeezing 
out  the  sea-water,  and  vigorously  pushing  away  the 
Atlantic  Ocean.  The  Atlantic  was  roused.  Mrs. 
Partington's  spirit  was  up ;  but  I  need  not  tell  you,  the 
contest  was  unequal.  The  Atlantic  Ocean  beat  Mrs. 
Partington.  She  was  excellent  at  a  slop  or  a  puddle ; 
but  she  should  not  have  meddled  with  a  tempest. 
Gentlemen,  be  at  your  ease,  be  quiet  and  steady. 
You  will  beat  Mrs.  Partington."  * 

"It  was  not  respectful  to  liken  the  Lords  of 
England  to  an  old  woman,  now  was  it,  Mother  ?  " 
asked  the  Squire. 

But  Mrs.  Atheling  only  laughed  the  more,  and 
the  conversation  drifted  so  completely  into  poli- 
tics that  Kitty  and  Annie  grew  weary  of  it,  and 
said  they  wished  to  go  to  their  rooms.  And  as 
they  left  the  parlour  together,  Edgar  suddenly 
stayed  Kitty  a  moment,  and  said,  "  I  had  nearly 
forgotten  to  tell  you  something.  Miss  Vyner 

1  Speech  at  Taunton  by  Sydney  Smith,  October  12,  1831. 


Not  Yet  287 

is  to  be  married,  on  the  second  of  December,  to 
Cecil  North.  I  am  going  to  London  in  time  for 
the  wedding." 

And  Kitty  said,  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  Edgar," 
and  quickly  closed  the  door.  But  she  lay  long 
awake,  wondering  what  influence  this  event 
would  have  upon  Piers  and  his  future,  until, 
finally,  the  wonder  passed  into  a  little  verse 
which  they  had  learned  together;  and  with  it 
singing  in  her  heart,  she  fell  asleep : — • 

"  Thou  art  mine  !  I  am  thine  ! 
Thou  art  locked  in  this  heart  of  mine; 
Whereof  is  lost  the  little  key : 
So  there,  forever,  thou  must  be  !  " 


288     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 


CHAPTER  FOURTEENTH 

AT  THE  WORST 

IN  the  first  joy  of  their  return  home,  Squire 
Atheling  and  his  son  had  not  chosen  to  alarm 
the  women  of  the  family ;  yet  the  condition  of 
the  country  was  such  as  filled  with  terror  every 
thoughtful  mind.  The  passionate  emotion  evoked 
by  the  second  rejection  of  the  Reform  Bill  did 
not  abate.  Tumultuous  meetings  were  held  in 
every  town  and  village  as  the  news  reached  them ; 
houses  were  draped  in  black;  shops  were  closed; 
and  the  bells  of  the  churches  tolled  backward. 
In  London  the  populace  was  quite  uncontroll- 
able. Vast  crowds  filled  the  streets,  cheering  the 
Reform  leaders,  and  denouncing  with  furious 
execrations  the  members  of  either  House  who 
had  opposed  the  Bill.  The  Duke  of  Newcastle, 
the  Marquis  of  Londonderry,  and  many  other 
peers  were  not  saved  from  the  anger  of  the 
people  without  struggle  and  danger.  Notting- 
ham Castle,  the  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Newcastle, 
was  burnt  to  the  ground  ;  and  Belvoir  Castle,  the 
seat  of  the  Duke  of  Rutland,  was  barely  saved. 
Bristol  saw  a  series  of  riots,  and  during  them 


At  the  Worst  289 

suffered  greatly  from  fire,  and  the  Bishop's  palace 
was  reduced  to  ashes. 

Everywhere  the  popular  fury  settled  with  special 
bitterness  and  hatred  upon  the  bishops  ;  because, 
as  teachers  of  the  doctrines  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
the  "  common  people  "  expected  sympathy  from 
them.  A  cry  arose,  from  one  end  of  England  to 
the  other,  for  their  expulsion  from  the  Upper 
Chamber ;  and  proposals  even  for  the  abolition 
of  the  House  of  Lords  were  constant  and  very 
popular.  For  such  extreme  measures  no  speaker 
was  so  eloquent  and  so  powerful  as  Mr.  O'Connell. 
In  addressing  a  great  meeting  at  Charing  Cross 
one  day,  he  pointed  in  the  direction  of  Whitehall 
Palace,  and  reminded  his  hearers  that,  "  A  King 
had  lost  his  head  there.  Why,"  he  asked,  "  did 
this  doom  come  on  him?  It  was,"  he  cried, 
"  because  he  refused  to  listen  to  his  Commons 
and  his  people,  and  obeyed  the  dictation  of  a 
foreign  wife."  And  this  allusion  to  the  Queen's 
bad  influence  over  William  the  Fourth  was  taken 
up  by  the  crowd  with  vehement  cheering. 

While  Bristol  was  burning,  the  cholera  appeared 
in  England  ;  and  its  terrors,  new  and  awful  and 
apparently  beyond  human  help  or  skill,  added 
the  last  element  of  supernatural  fear  to  the 
excited  and  hopeless  people.  It  is  hard  to 
realise  at  this  day,  and  with  our  knowledge  of 
the  disease,  the  frantic  and  abject  despair  which 
seized  all  classes.  The  churches  were  kept  open, 
supplications  ascended  night  and  day  from  the 
19 


290     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

altars;  and  on  the  sixth  of  November,  at  one 
hour,  from  every  place  of  worship  in  England, 
hundreds  of  thousands  knelt  to  utter  aloud  a 
form  of  prayer  which  was  constantly  broken  by 
sobs  of  anguish :  — 

"  Lord,  have  pity  on  thy  people  !  Withdraw  thy 
heavy  hand  from  those  who  are  suffering  under  thy 
judgments;  and  turn  away  from  us  that  grievous 
calamity  against  which  our  only  security  is  Thy 
Compassion." 

In  the  presence  of  this  scourge,  Mrs.  Atheling 
found  it  impossible  to  persuade  the  Squire  to  let 
his  family  go  up  with  him  and  Edgar  to  London. 
About  the  cholera,  the  Squire  had  the  common 
fatalistic  ideas. 

"  You  may  escape  through  God's  mercy,"  he 
said;  "but  if  you  are  to  die  of  this  fearsome, 
outlandish  sickness,  then  it  is  best  to  face  death 
in  your  own  home." 

"  But  if  you  should  take  it  in  London,  and  me 
not  near  even  to  bid  you  '  good-bye/  John !  I 
should  die  of  grief." 

"  I  do  hope  thou  wouldst  have  more  sense, 
Maude." 

"  I  would  follow  thee  beyond  the  grave,  very 
quickly,  John." 

"  No,  no  !  Stay  where  thou  art.  Thou  knowest 
what  Yorkshire  is,"  and  though  he  spoke  gruffly, 
his  eyes  were  dim  with  unshed  tears  for  the 
dreadful  possibility  he  thought  it  right  to  face. 


At  the  Worst  291 


Kate  was  specially  averse  to  return  to  London. 
It  was  full  of  memories  she  did  not  wish  to 
revive.  Piers  was  there  ;  and  how  could  she  bear 
to  meet  him,  and  neither  speak  to  nor  even  look 
at  her  lover?  There  was  Annabel's  marriage  also 
to  consider.  If  she  did  not  attend  it,  how  many 
unpleasant  inquiries  and  suppositions  there  would 
be?  If  she  did  accept  the  formal  invitation  sent 
her,  how  was  she  to  conduct  herself  towards 
Piers  in  the  presence  of  those  who  knew  them 
both  intimately? 

The  marriage  was  to  take  place  shortly  before 
the  opening  of  Parliament ;  and,  owing  to  the 
wretched  condition  of  the  country,  it  was  thought 
best  to  give  it  only  a  private  character.  The 
management  of  the  social  arrangements  were  in 
Piers's  hands,  and  during  these  last  days  a  very 
brotherly  and  confidential  affection  sprang  up  in 
his  heart  for  the  brilliant  girl  who  was  so  soon  to 
leave  them  forever.  One  morning  he  returned 
to  Richmoor  House  with  some  valuable  jewels 
for  Annabel.  He  sent  a  servant  to  tell  her  that 
he  was  in  the  small  east  parlour  and  desired  her 
company.  Then,  knowing  her  usual  indifference 
to  time,  he  sat  down  and  patiently  awaited  her 
coming.  She  responded  almost  immediately. 
But  her  entrance  startled  and  troubled  him.  She 
came  in  hastily,  and  shut  the  door  with  a  per- 
ceptible nervous  tremour.  Her  face  was  flushed 
with  anger ;  she  looked  desperate  and  defiant, 
and  met  his  curious  glance  with  one  of  mingled 


292     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

fear  and  entreaty  and  reckless  passion.  He  led 
her  to  a  seat,  and  taking  her  hands  said,  — 

"  My  dear  Bella,  what  has  grieved  you?  " 

"  Oh,  Piers !  Piers  !  "  she  sobbed.  "  If  you  have 
one  bit  of  pity  in  your  heart,  give  it  to  me.  I  am 
the  most  miserable  woman  in  the  world." 

"Bella,  if  you  do  not  love  Cecil  —  if  you  want 
to  break  off  this  marriage  —  " 

"  Love  Cecil?  I  love  him  better  than  my  life ! 
My  love  for  Cecil  is  the  best  thing  about  me. 
It  is  not  Cecil." 

"Who  is  it  then?" 

"  I  will  tell  you,  though  you  may  hate  me  for  my 
words.  Piers,  I  took  the  ring  you  lost.  I  meant 
no  harm  in  the  first  moment ;  mischief  and  jeal- 
ousy were  then  so  mixed,  I  don't  know  which  of 
them  led  me.  I  saw  you  asleep.  I  slipped  the 
ring  off  your  finger.  I  told  myself  I  would  give 
it  to  you  in  the  morning,  and  claim  my  forfeit. 
In  the  morning,  the  Duchess  was  cross ;  and  you 
were  cross ;  and  the  constables  were  in  the  house  ; 
and  I  was  afraid.  And  I  put  it  off  and  off,  and 
every  day  my  fear  of  trouble  —  and  perhaps  my 
hope  of  doing  mischief  with  it — grew  stronger. 
I  had  then  hours  of  believing  that  I  should  like  to 
be  your  wife,  and  I  hated  and  envied  Kate  Athel- 
ing.  I  hesitated  until  I  lost  the  desire  to  explain 
things  ;  and  then  one  day  my  maid  Justine  flew  in 
a  passion  at  me,  and  accused  me  of  stealing  the 
ring.  She  said  it  was  in  my  purse  —  and  it  was. 
She  threatened  to  call  in  the  whole  household  to 


At  the  Worst  293 

see  me  found  out;  and  it  was  the  night  of  the 
great  dinner;  and  I  bought  her  off." 

"  Oh,  Bella !  Bella !  that  was  very  foolish." 

"  I  know.  She  has  tortured  and  robbed  me 
ever  since.  I  have  wasted  away  under  her 
threats.  Look  at  my  arms,  Piers,  and  my 
hands.  I  have  a  constant  fever.  Last  week  she 
promised  me,  if  I  would  give  her  two  hundred 
pounds,  she  would  go  away,  and  I  should  never 
see  or  hear  of  her  again.  I  gave  her  the  money. 
Now  she  says  she  has  made  up  her  mind  to  go 
to  India  with  me.  That  I  cannot  endure.  She 
has  kept  me  on  the  rack  with  threats  to  tell  Cecil. 
He  is  the  soul  of  Honour;  he  would  certainly 
cease  to  love  me ;  and  if  I  was  his  wife,  how  ter- 
rible that  would  be!  What  am  I  to  do?  What 
am  I  to  do?  Oh,  Piers,  help  me !  " 

"  Where  is  the  woman  now?  " 

"  In  my  apartments." 

"  Can  I  go  with  you  to  your  parlour  ? " 

"Yes  — but,  Piers,  why?" 

"  Where  is  the  ring,  Bella  dear?  " 

"  In  her  possession.  She  was  afraid  I  would 
give  it  to  you." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  all  this  before  ? 
Come,  I  will  soon  settle  the  affair." 

When  they  reached  the  room,  Annabel  sank 
almost  lifeless  on  a  sofa;  and  Piers  touched  a 
hand-bell.  Justine  called  from  an  inner  room: 

"  I  will  answer  at  my  leisure,  Miss." 

Piers  walked  to  the  dividing  door,  and  threw  it 


294     I>  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

open.  "  You  will  answer  now,  at  my  command. 
Come  here,  and  come  quickly." 

"  My  lord  —  I  did  not  mean  —  " 

"  Stand  there,  and  answer  truly  the  questions  I 
shall  ask ;  or  I  promise  you  a  few  years  on  the 
treadmill,  if  not  a  worse  punishment.  Do  you 
know  that  you  are  guilty  of  black-mailing,  and 
of  obtaining  money  on  false  pretences?  —  both 
crimes  to  be  expiated  on  the  gallows." 

"  My  lord,  it  is  a  true  pretence.  Miss  Vyner 
stole  your  ring.  She  knows  she  did." 

"  She  could  not  steal  anything  I  have;  she  is 
welcome  to  whatever  of  mine  she  desires.  How 
much  money  have  you  taken  from  Miss  Vyner?" 

"  I  have  not  taken  one  half-penny,"  answered 
Justine,  sulkily.  "  She  gave  me  the  money ;  she 
dare  not  say  different.  Speak,  Miss,  you  know 
you  gave  it  to  me."  But  Annabel  had  recovered 
something  of  her  old  audacity.  She  felt  she  was 
safe,  and  she  was  not  disposed  to  mercy.  She 
only  smiled  scornfully,  and  re-arranged  the  satin 
cushions  under  her  head  more  comfortably. 

"  Quick  !    How  much  money  have  you  taken  ?  " 

Justine  refused  to  answer;  and  Piers  said,  "I 
give  you  two  minutes.  Then  I  shall  send  for  a 
constable." 

"  And  Miss  Vyner's  wedding  will  be  put 
off." 

"For  your  crime?  Oh,  no!  Miss  Vyner's 
wedding  is  far  beyond  your  interference.  She 
will  have  nothing  to  do  with  this  affair.  /  shall 


At  the  Worst  295 

prosecute  you.  You  have  my  ring.  Will  you 
give  it  to  me,  or  to  a  constable?" 

"  I  did  not  take  the  ring." 

"  It  is  in  your  possession.  I  will  send  now  for 
an  officer."  He  rose  to  touch  the  bell-rope, 
keeping  his  eyes  on  the  woman  all  the  time;  and 
she  darted  forward  and  arrested  his  hand. 

"  I  will  do  what  you  wish,"  she  said. 

"  How  much  money  have  you  taken  from  Miss 
Vyner?  " 

"  Eight  hundred  and  ninety  pounds." 

"Where  is  it?" 

"  In  my  room." 

"  Go  and  get  it —  stay,  I  will  go  with  you." 

In  a  few  minutes  Justine  returned  with  her  ill- 
gotten  treasure;  and  then  she  condescended  to 
explain,  and  entreat,  — 

"  Oh,  my  lord,"  she  said,  "  don't  be  hard  on 
me.  I  wanted  the  money  for  my  poor  old  mother 
who  is  in  Marylebone  Workhouse.  I  did,  indeed 
I  did  !  It  was  to  make  her  old  age  comfortable. 
She  is  sick  and  very  poor,  and  I  wanted  it  for 
her." 

"We  shall  see  about  that.  If  your  story  is 
true,  you  shall  give  the  money  to  your  poor  old 
sick  mother.  If  it  is  not  true,  you  shall  give  my 
ring  and  the  money  to  a  constable,  and  sleep  in 
prison  this  very  night." 

With  impetuous  passion  he  ordered  a  carriage, 
and  Justine  was  driven  to  the  Marylebone  Work- 
house. By  the  time  they  reached  that  institution, 


296     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

she  was  thoroughly  humbled  and  afraid ;  her  fear 
being  confirmed  by  the  subservience  of  the 
Master  to  the  rank  and  commands  of  Lord 
Exham.  For  a  moment  she  had  an  idea  of 
denying  her  own  statement;  but  the  futility  of 
the  lie  was  too  evident  to  be  doubted  ;  and,  very 
reluctantly,  she  admitted  her  mother's  name  to 
be  Margaret  Oddy.  In  a  few  minutes  —  during 
which  Lord  Exham  ordered  Justine  to  count  out 
the  money  in  her  bag  to  the  Master  —  Margaret 
appeared.  She  was  not  an  old  woman  in  years, 
being  but  little  over  forty;  but  starvation,  sor- 
row, and  hard  work  had  made  her  prematurely 
aged.  When  she  entered  the  room,  she  looked 
around  anxiously ;  but  as  soon  as  she  saw  Justine, 
she  covered  her  face  with  her  thin  hands,  and 
began  to  weep. 

"Is  this  your  daughter?"  asked  the  Master, 
pointing  to  Justine. 

"I  am  her  mother,  sure  enough,  sir;  but 
she  have  cast  me  off  long  ago.  Oh,  Justine  girl, 
speak  a  word  to  me !  You  are  my  girl,  for  all 
that 's  past  and  gone." 

"  Justine  has  come  to  make  you  some  amends 
for  her  previous  neglect,  Mother,"  said  Lord  Ex- 
ham.  "  She  has  brought  you  eight  hundred  and 
ninety  pounds  for  your  old  age.  To-morrow  my 
lawyer  will  call  here,  and  give  you  advice  con- 
cerning its  care  and  its  use.  Until  then,  the 
Master  will  take  it  in  charge." 

"  Let  me  see  it !     Let   me   touch  it  with  my 


At  the  Worst  297 

hands  !  No  more  hunger !  No  more  cold !  No 
more  hard  work !  It  can't  be  true  !  It  can't  be 
true!  Is  it  true,  Justine?  Kiss  me  with  the 
money,  girl,  for  the  sake  of  the  happy  days  we 
have  had  together !  "  With  these  words  she 
went  to  her  daughter,  and  tried  to  take  her  hands, 
and  draw  her  to  her  breast.  But  Justine  would 
not  respond.  She  stood  sullen  and  silent,  with 
eyes  cast  on  the  ground. 

"  Why,  then,"  said  Margaret,  with  just  anger, 
"  why,  then,  keep  the  money,  Justine.  I  would 
rather  eat  peas  and  porridge,  and  sleep  on 
straw,  than  take  a  shilling  with  such  ill-will  from 
you,  girl."  Then,  turning  to  Piers,  she  added, 
"  Thank  you,  good  gentleman,  but  I  '11  stay  where 
I  am.  Let  Justine  keep  her  gold.  I  don't  want 
such  an  ill-will  gift." 

"  Mother,"  answered  Piers.  "  You  may  take 
the  money  from  my  hands,  then.  It  is  yours. 
Justine's  good  or  ill-will  has  now  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  I  give  it  to  you  from  the  noble  young 
lady  whom  your  daughter  has  wronged  so 
greatly  that  the  gallows  would  be  her  just  desert. 
She  gives  up  this  money  —  which  she  has  no 
right  to  —  as  some  atonement  for  her  crime.  Is 
not  this  the  truth,  Justine?"  he  asked  sternly; 
and  the  woman  answered,  "  Yes."  Then  turning 
to  the  Master,  he  added,  "  To  this  fact,  and  to  Jus- 
tine's admission  of  it,  you  are  witness." 

The  Master  said,  "  I  am."  Then  addressing 
Margaret,  he  told  her  to  go  back  to  her  place,  and 


298     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

think  over  the  good  fortune  that  had  so  unex- 
pectedly come  to  her;  what  she  wished  to  do 
with  her  money ;  and  where  she  wished  to  make 
her  future  home.  And  the  mother  curtsied 
feebly  and  again  turned  to  her  child,  — 

"  If  I  go  back  to  the  old  cottage  in  Downham 
—  the  old  cottage  with  the  vines,  and  the  bee 
skeps,  and  the  long  garden,  will  you  come  with 
me,  and  we  will  share  all  together?" 

"  No." 

"  Let  her  alone,  Mother,"  said  Exham.  "  She 
is  going  to  the  furthest  American  colony  she  can 
reach.  Only  in  some  such  place,  will  she  be  safe 
from  the  punishment  of  her  wrong-doing." 

"  Justine,  then,  my  girl,  good-bye !  " 

No  answer. 

"  Justine,  good-bye  !  " 

No  answer. 

"  Why,  then,  my  girl,  God  be  with  you,  and  God 
forgive  you ! " 

Then  Justine  turned  to  Lord  Exham,  "  I 
have  done  what  you  demanded.  May  I  now  go 
my  own  way?" 

"  Not  just  yet.     You  will  return  with  me." 

He  gave  his  card  to  the  Master,  and  followed 
the  woman,  keeping  her  constantly  under  his 
hand  and  eye  until  they  returned  to  Annabel's 
parlour.  Annabel  was  in  a  dead  sleep ;  but  their 
entrance  awakened  her,  and  it  pained  Piers  to  see 
the  look  of  fear  that  came  into  her  face  when  she 
saw  her  cruel  tormentor.  She  was  speedily  re- 


At  the  Worst  299 

lieved,  however ;  for  the  first  words  she  heard,  was 
an  order  from  Piers,  bidding  her  to  be  ready  to 
leave  the  house  in  twenty  minutes.  He  took  out 
his  watch  as  he  gave  the  order,  and  then  added, 
"  First  of  all,  return  to  me  my  ring." 

"  I  did  not  take  your  ring,  my  lord." 

"  You  have  it  in  your  possession.  Return  it  at 
once." 

"  Miss  Vyner  stole  it  —  " 

"  Give  it  to  me  !  You  know  the  consequences 
of  one  more  refusal." 

Then  Justine  took  from  her  purse  the  long 
missing  ring.  She  threw  it  on  the  table,  and, 
with  tears  of  rage,  said, — 

"  May  ill-luck  and  false  love  go  with  it,  and 
follow  all  who  own  it !  " 

"  The  bad  wishes  of  the  wicked  fall  on  them- 
selves, Justine,"  said  Lord  Exham,  as  he  lifted  the 
trinket.  "  How  much  money  does  your  mistress 
owe  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  '  mistress.'  Miss  Vyner  owes  me 
a  quarter's  wage,  and  a  quarter's  notice,  that  is 
eight  pounds. 

"  Is  that  correct,  Annabel?  " 

"  The  woman  says  so.  Pay  her  what  she  wants 
—  only  get  her  out  of  my  sight." 

"Oh,  Miss,  I  can  tell  you  —  " 

"  Go.  Pack  your  trunk,  and  be  back  here  in 
fifteen  minutes.  And,  mind  what  I  say,  leave 
England  at  once  —  the  sooner  the  better." 

Before  the  time  was  past,  the  woman  was  out- 


300     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

side  the  gates  of  Richmoor  House,  and  Piers  re- 
turned to  Annabel.  "That  trouble  is  all  over 
and  gone  forever,"  he  said  to  her ;  "  now,  dear 
Bella,  lift  up  your  heart  to  its  full  measure  of  love 
and  joy  !  Let  Cecil  see  you  to-night  in  your  old 
beauty.  He  is  fretting  about  your  health ;  show 
him  the  marvellously  bright  Annabel  that  cap- 
tured his  heart  with  a  glance." 

"  I  will !  I  will,  Piers !  This  very  night  you 
shall  see  that  Annabel  is  herself  again." 

"  And  in  three  days  you  are  to  be  Cecil's 
wife !  " 

"  In  three  days,"  she  echoed  joyfully.  "  Leave 
me  now,  Piers.  I  want  to  think  over  your  good- 
ness to  me.  I  shall  never  forget  it." 

Smiling,  they  parted ;  and  then  Annabel  opened 
all  the  doors  of  her  rooms,  and  looked  carefully 
around  them,  and  assured  herself  that  her  tyrant 
was  really  gone.  "  In  three  days !  "  she  said, 
"  in  three  days  I  am  going  away  from  all  this 
splendour  and  luxury,  —  going  to  dangers  of  all 
kinds ;  to  a  wild  life  in  camps  and  quarters ; 
perhaps  to  deprivations  in  lonely  places  —  and  I 
am  happy  !  Happy !  transcendently  happy !  Oh, 
Love  !  Wonderful,  Invincible,  Omnipotent  Love  ! 
Cecil's  love !  It  will  be  sufficient  for  all  things." 

Certainly  she  was  permeated  with  this  idea.  It 
radiated  from  her  countenance ;  it  spoke  in  her 
eyes ;  it  made  itself  visible  in  the  glory  of  her 
bridal  attire.  The  wedding  morning  was  one  of 
the  darkest  and  dreariest  of  London's  winter 


At  the  Worst  301 

days.  A  black  pouring  rain  fell  incessantly ;  the 
atmosphere  was  heavy,  and  loaded  with  exhala- 
tions ;  and  the  cholera  terror  was  on  every  face. 
For  at  this  time  it  was  really  "  a  destruction  walk- 
ing at  noon-day  "  and  leaving  its  ghastly  sign  of 
possession  on  many  a  house  in  the  streets  along 
which  the  bridal  party  passed. 

It  came  into  the  gloomy  church  like  a  splendid 
dream :  officers  in  gay  uniforms,  ladies  in  beau- 
tiful gowns  and  nodding  plumes,  and  at  the 
altar,  —  shining  like  some  celestial  being,  —  the 
radiant  bride  in  glistening  white  satin,  and  spark- 
ling gems.  And  Cecil,  in  his  new  military 
uniform,  tall,  handsome,  soldierly,  happy,  made 
her  a  fitting  companion.  The  church  was  filled 
with  a  dismal  vapour;  the  rain  plashed  on  the 
flagged  enclosure ;  the  wind  whistled  round  the 
ancient  tower:  there  was  only  gloom,  and  misery, 
and  sudden  death  outside;  but  over  all  these 
accidents  of  time  and  place,  the  joy  of  the  bride 
and  the  bridegroom  was  triumphant.  And  later 
in  the  day,  when  the  Duke  and  Piers  went  with 
them  to  the  great  three-decked  Indiaman  wait- 
ing for  their  embarkation,  they  were  still  won- 
drously  exalted  and  blissful.  Dressed  in  fine 
dark-blue  broadcloth,  and  wrapped  in  costly  furs, 
Annabel  watched  from  the  deck  the  departure  of 
her  friends,  and  then  put  her  hand  in  Cecil's  with 
a  smile. 

"  For  weal  or  woe,  Bella,  my  dear  one,"  he 
said. 


302     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  For  weal  or  woe,  for  life  or  death,  Cecil  be- 
loved," she  answered,  having  no  idea  then  of 
what  that  promise  was  to  bring  her  in  the  future ; 
though  she  kept  it  nobly  when  the  time  of  its 
redemption  came. 

Three  days  after  this  event,  Mrs.  Atheling 
received  by  special  messenger  from  Lord  Exham 
a  letter,  and  with  it  the  ring  which  had  caused  so 
much  suspicion  and  sorrow.  But  though  the 
letter  was  affectionate  and  confidential,  and  full 
of  tender  messages  which  he  "  trusted  in  her  to 
deliver  for  him,"  nothing  was  said  as  to  the  man- 
ner of  its  recovery,  or  the  personality  of  the  one 
who  had  purloined  it. 

"  Your  father  has  been  right,  no  doubt,  Kate, " 
she  said.  "  In  some  weak  moment  Annabel  has 
got  the  ring  from  him,  and  on  her  marriage  has 
given  it  back.  That  is  clear  to  me." 

"Not  to  me,  Mother.  I  am  sure  Piers  did 
not  give  Annabel  —  did  not  give  any  one  the 
ring.  I  will  tell  you  what  I  think.  Annabel 
got  it  while  he  was  asleep,  or  he  inadvertently 
dropped  it,  and  she  picked  it  up  —  and  kept  it, 
hoping  to  make  mischief." 

"You  may  be  wrong,  Kitty." 

"  I  may  —  but  I  know  I  am  right. " 

No  Diviner  like  Love  ! 

On  this  same  day,  with  the  cholera  raging  all 
around,  Parliament  was  re-opened;  and  Lord 
John  Russell  again  brought  in  the  Reform  Bill. 
There  was  something  pathetic  in  this  persist- 


At  the  Worst  303 

ence  of  a  people,  hungry  and  naked,  and  over- 
shadowed by  an  unknown  pestilence,  swift  and 
malignant  as  a  Fate.  It  was  evident,  immedi- 
ately, that  the  same  course  of  "  obstruction  " 
which  had  proved  fatal  to  the  two  previous  Bills 
was  to  be  pursued  against  the  third  attempt. 
Yet  the  temper  of  the  House  of  Commons,  sul- 
lenly, doggedly  determined,  might  even  thus 
early  have  warned  its  opposers.  All  the  unfair- 
ness and  pertinacity  of  Peel  and  his  associates 
was  of  no  avail  against  the  inflexible  steadiness 
of  Lord  Althorp  and  the  cold  impassibility  of 
Lord  John  Russell. 

Week  after  week  passed  in  debating,  while 
the  press  and  people  waited  in  alternating  fits 
of  passionate  threats  and  still  more  alarming 
silence,  —  a  silence,  Lord  Grey  declared  to  be, 
"Most  ominous  of  trouble,  and  of  the  most  vital 
importance  to  the  obstructing  force."  The 
Squire  was  weary  to  death.  He  found  it  impos- 
sible to  take  a  dutiful  interest  in  the  proceed- 
ings. The  tactics  of  the  fight  did  not  appeal  to 
his  nature.  He  thought  they  were  neither  fair 
nor  straightforward;  and,  unconsciously,  his 
own  opinions  had  been  much  leavened  by  his 
late  familiar  intercourse  with  Lord  Ashley  and 
his  son. 

In  these  days  his  chief  comfort  came  from  the 
friendship  of  Piers  Exham.  The  young  man 
frequently  sought  his  company;  and  it  became 
almost  a  custom  for  them  to  dine  together  at  the 


304     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Tory  Club.  And  at  such  times  words  were 
dropped  that  neither  would  have  uttered,  or 
even  thought  of,  at  the  beginning  of  the  contest. 
Thus  one  night  Piers  said,  in  his  musing  way,  as 
he  fingered  his  glass,  rather  than  drank  the  wine 
in  it,  — 

"  I  have  been  wondering,  Squire,  whether  the 
wish  of  a  whole  nation,  gradually  growing  in 
intensity  for  sixty  years,  until  it  has  become,  to- 
day, a  command  and  a  threat,  is  not  something 
more  than  a  wish  ?  " 

"I  should  say  it  was,  Piers,"  answered  the 
Squire.  "  Very  likely  the  wish  has  grown  to  —  a 
right." 

"Perhaps." 

Then  both  men  were  silent;  and  the  next 
topic  discussed  was  the  new  sickness,  and  Piers 
anxiously  asked  if  "it  had  reached  Atheling. " 

"  No,  it  has  not,  thank  the  Almighty ! "  replied 
the  Squire.  "  There  has  not  been  a  case  of  it. 
My  family  are  all  well." 

Allusions  to  Kate  were  seldom  more  definite 
than  this  one;  but  Piers  found  inexpressible 
comfort  in  the  few  words.  Such  intercourse 
might  not  seem  conducive  to  much  kind  feeling; 
but  it  really  was.  The  frequent  silences;  the 
short,  pertinent  sentences;  the  familiar,  kindly 
touch  of  the  young  man's  hand,  when  it  was  time 
to  return  to  the  House;  the  little  courteous 
attentions  which  it  pleased  Piers  to  render, 
rather  than  let  the  Squire  be  indebted  to  a  ser- 


At  the  Worst  305 

vant  for  them,  —  these,  and  other  things  quite  as 
trivial,  made  a  bond  between  the  two  men  that 
every  day  strengthened. 

It  was  nearly  the  end  of  March  when  the  Bill 
once  more  got  through  the  Commons ;  and  hith- 
erto the  nation  had  waited  as  men  wait  the 
preliminaries  of  a  battle.  But  they  were  like 
hounds  held  by  a  leash  when  the  great  question 
as  to  whether  the  Lords  would  now  give  way,  or 
not,  was  to  be  determined.  The  Squire  was  an 
exceedingly  sensitive  man;  for  he  was  exceed- 
ingly affectionate,  and  he  was  troubled  continu- 
ally by  the  hungry,  wretched,  anxious  crowds 
through  which  he  often  picked  his  way  to  West- 
minster, the  more  so,  as  his  genial,  bluff,  thor- 
oughly English  appearance  seemed  to  please  and 
encourage  these  non-contents.  At  every  step 
he  was  urged  to  vote  on  the  right  side.  "  God 
bless  you,  Squire ! "  was  a  common  address. 
"Pity  the  poor!  Vote  for  the  right!  Go  for 
Reform,  Squire!  Before  God,  Squire,  we  must 
win  this  time,  or  die  for  it !  "  And  the  Squire, 
distressed,  and  half-convinced  of  the  justice  of 
their  case,  would  lift  his  hat  at  such  words,  and 
pass  a  sovereign  into  the  hand  of  some  lean, 
white-faced  man,  and  answer,  "God  defend  the 
Right,  friends !  "  He  could  not  tell  them,  as  he 
had  done  in  his  first  session,  to  "go  home  and 
mind  their  business."  He  could  not  say,  as  he 
did  then,  a  downright  "No;"  could  not  bid 
them,  "  Reform  themselves,  and  let  the  Govern- 


306     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

ment  alone,"  or  ask,  "If  they  were  bereft  of 
their  senses?"  If  he  answered  at  all  now,  it 
was  in  the  motto  so  familiar  to  them,  "God  and 
my  Right ;  "  or,  if  much  urged,  "  I  give  my  word 
to  do  my  best."  Or  he  would  bow  courteously, 
and  say,  "God  grant  us  all  good  days  without 
end."  Before  the  Bill  passed  the  Commons,  at 
the  end  of  March,  it  had,  at  any  rate,  come  to 
this, — he  was  not  only  averse  to  vote  against 
the  Bill,  he  was  also  averse  to  tell  these  wait- 
ing sufferers  that  he  intended  to  vote  against  it. 

On  the  night  of  the  thirteenth  of  April,  when 
the  Bill  was  before  the  Lords,  the  Squire  was 
too  excited  to  go  to  bed,  though  prevented  from 
occupying  his  seat  in  the  Commons  by  a  smart 
attack  of  rheumatism.  He  sat  in  his  club,  wait- 
ing for  intelligence,  and  watching  the  passing 
crowds  to  try  and  glean  from  their  behaviour  the 
progress  of  events.  Piers  had  promised  to  bring 
him  word  as  soon  as  the  vote  was  taken.  He 
did  not  arrive  until  eight  o'clock  the  next 
morning.  The  Squire  was  drinking  his  coffee, 
and  making  up  his  mind  to  return  to  Atheling, 
"whatever  happened,"  when  Piers,  white  and 
exhausted,  drew  his  chair  to  the  table. 

"The  Bill  has  passed  this  reading  by  nine 
votes,"  he  said  wearily;  "and  Parliament  has 
adjourned  for  the  Easter  recess;  that  is,  until 
the  seventh  of  May.  Three  weeks  of  suspense ! 
I  do  not  know  how  it  is  to  be  endured." 

"I  am  going   to  Atheling.     Edgar  will  very 


At  the  Worst  307 

likely  go  to  Ashley,  and  I  think  you  had  better 
go  with  us.  Three  weeks  of  Exham  winds  will 
make  a  new  man  of  you. " 

At  this  point  Edgar  joined  them,  and,  greatly 
to  his  father's  annoyance,  declared  both  Athel- 
ing  and  Ashley  out  of  the  question.  "This 
three  weeks,"  he  said,  "will  decide  the  fate  of 
England.  I  have  promised  my  leader  to  visit 
Warwick,  Worcester,  Stafford,  and  Birmingham. 
At  the  latter  place  there  will  be  the  greatest 
political  meeting  ever  held  in  this  world." 

"And  what  will  Annie  say?"  asked  the 
Squire. 

"Annie  thinks  I  am  doing  right.  Annie  does, 
not  put  me  before  the  hundred  of  thousands  to 
whom  the  success  of  Reform  will  bring  hap- 
piness." 

"It  beats  all  and  everything,"  said  the 
Squire.  "  I  would  n't  like  my  wife  to  put  me 
back  of  hundreds  and  thousands.  Have  you  been 
up  all  night  —  you  and  Piers  ?  " 

"All  night,"  answered  Edgar.  "We  were 
among  the  three  hundred  members  from  the 
Commons  who  filled  the  space  around  the  throne, 
and  stood  in  a  row  three  deep  below  the  bar.  I 
was  in  the  second  row;  but  I  heard  all  that 
passed  very  well.  Earl  Grey  did  not  begin  to 
speak  until  five  o'clock  this  morning,  and  he 
spoke  for  an  hour  and  a  half.  It  was  an  aston- 
ishing argument." 

"It  was  a  most  interesting  scene,  altogether," 


308     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

said  Piers.  "I  shall  never  forget  it.  The 
crowded  house,  its  still  and  solemn  demeanour, 
and  the  broad  daylight  coming  in  at  the  high 
windows  while  Grey  was  speaking.  Its  blue 
beams  mixed  with  the  red  of  the  flaring  candles, 
and  the  two  lights  made  strange  and  startling 
effects  on  the  crimson  draperies  and  the  dusky 
tapestries  on  the  walls.  I  felt  as  if  I  was  in  a 
vision.  I  kept  thinking  of  Cromwell  and  old 
forgotten  things;  and  it  was  like  waking  out  of 
a  dream  when  the  House  began  to  dissolve.  I 
was  not  quite  myself  until  I  had  drunk  a  cup  of 
coffee." 

"It  was  very  exciting,"  said  the  more  practi- 
cal Edgar;  "and  the  small  majority  is  only  to 
keep  the  people  quiet.  At  the  next  reading  the 
Bill  will  be  so  mutilated  as  to  be  practically 
rejected,  unless  we  are  ready  to  meet  such  an 
emergency." 

Piers  rose  at  these  words.  He  foresaw  a  dis- 
cussion he  had  no  mind  for;  and  he  said,  with  a 
touching  pathos  in  his  voice,  as  he  laid  his  hand 
on  the  Squire's  shoulder,  "Give  my  remem- 
brance to  the  ladies  at  Atheling,  —  my  heart's 
love,  if  you  will  take  it." 

"I  will  take  all  I  may,  Piers.  Good-bye! 
You  have  been  a  great  comfort  to  me.  I  am 
sure  I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done  with- 
out you;  for  Edgar,  you  see,  is  too  busy  for 
anything." 

"  Never  too  busy  to  be  with  you,  if  you  need 


At  the  Worst  309 

me,  Father.  But  you  are  such  a  host  in  your- 
self, and  I  never  imagined  you  required  help  of 
any  kind." 

"  Only  a  bit  of  company  now  and  then.  You 
were  about  graver  business.  It  suited  Piers  and 
me  to  sit  idle  and  say  a  word  or  two  about 
Atheling.  Come  down  to  Exham,  Piers,  do;  it 
will  be  good  for  you." 

"  No,  I  should  be  heart-sick  for  Atheling.  I 
am  better  away." 

The  Squire  nodded  gravely,  and  was  silent; 
and  Piers  passed  quietly  out  of  the  room.  His 
listless  serenity,  and  rather  drawling  speech, 
always  irritated  the  alert  Edgar;  and  he  sighed 
with  relief  when  he  was  rid  of  the  restraining 
influence  of  a  nature  so  opposite  to  his  own. 

"  So  you  are  going  to  Atheling,  Father?  "  he 
said.  "How?" 

"As  quick  and  quiet  as  I  can.  I  shall  take 
the  mail-coach  to  York,  or  further;  and  then 
trot  home  on  as  good  a  nag  as  I  can  hire. " 

In  this  way  he  reached  Atheling  the  third  day 
afterwards,  but  without  any  of  the  usual  tclat 
and  bustle  of  his  arrival.  Kate  had  gone  to  bed  ; 
Mrs.  Atheling  was  about  to  lock  the  big  front 
door,  when  he  opened  it.  She  let  the  candle- 
stick in  her  hand  fall  when  she  saw  him  enter, 
crying,  — 

"John!  Dear  John!  How  you  did  frighten 
me !  I  am  glad  to  see  you." 

"I  '11  believe  it,  Maude,  without  burning  the 


3io     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

house  for  an  illumination.  My  word !  I  am 
tired.  I  have  trotted  a  hack  horse  near  forty 
miles  to-day." 

Then  she  forgot  everything  but  the  Squire's 
refreshment  and  comfort;  and  the  house  was 
roused,  and  Kitty  came  downstairs  again,  and 
for  an  hour  there  was  at  least  the  semblance  of 
rejoicing.  But  Mrs.  Atheling  was  not  deceived. 
She  saw  her  lord  was  depressed  and  anxious; 
and  she  was  sure  the  Reform  Bill  had  finally 
passed;  and  after  a  little  while  she  ventured  to 
say  so. 

"No,  it  has  not  passed,"  answered  the  Squire; 
"  it  has  got  to  its  worst  bit,  that 's  all.  After 
Easter  the  Lords  will  muster  in  all  their  power, 
and  either  throw  it  out,  or  change  and  cripple  it 
so  much  that  it  will  be  harmless." 

"  Now,  then,  John,  what  do  you  think,  really?" 

"  I  think,  really,  that  we  land-owners  are  all 
of  us  between  the  devil  and  the  deep  sea.  If  the 
Bill  passes,  away  go  the  Corn  Laws ;  and  then 
how  are  we  to  make  our  money  out  of  the  land  ? 
If  it  does  not  pass,  we  are  in  for  a  civil  war  and 
a  Commonwealth,  and  no  Cromwell  to  lead  and 
guide  it.  It  is  a  bad  look-out." 

"  But  it  might  be  worse.  We  have  n't  had 
any  cholera  here.  We  must  trust  in  God, 
John." 

"It  is  easy  to  trust  in  God  when  you  don't  see 
the  doings  of  the  devil.  You  would  n't  be  so 
cheerful,  Maude,  if  you  had  lived  in  the  sight 


At  the  Worst  311 

of  his  handiwork,  as  I  have  for  months.  I 
think  surely  God  has  given  England  into  his 
power,  as  he  did  the  good  man  of  Uz." 

"Well,  then,  it  was  only  for  a  season,  and  a 
seven-fold  blessing  after  it.  It  is  wonderful  how 
well  your  men  have  behaved;  they  haven't 
taken  a  bit  of  advantage  of  your  absence.  That 
is  another  good  thing. " 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that.  I  will  see  them, 
man  by  man,  before  I  go  back  to  London. " 

The  villagers,  however,  sent  a  deputation  as 
soon  as  they  heard  of  the  Squire's  arrival,  asking 
him  to  come  down  to  Atheling  Green,  and  tell 
them  something  about  Reform.  And  he  was 
pleased  at  the  request,  and  went  down,  and 
found  they  had  made  a  temporary  platform  out 
of  two  horse-blocks  for  him ;  and  there  he  stood, 
his  fine,  imposing,  sturdy  figure  thrown  clearly 
into  relief  by  the  sunny  spring  atmosphere. 
And  it  was  good  to  listen  to  his  strong,  sympa- 
thetic voice,  for  it  had  the  ring  of  truth  in  all  its 
inflections,  as  he  said,  — 

"Men!  Englishmen!  Citizens  of  no  mean 
country!  you  have  asked  me  to  explain  to  you 
what  this  Reform  business  means.  You  know 
well  I  will  tell  you  no  lies.  It  will  give  lots  of 
working-men  votes  that  never  hoped  for  a  vote ; 
and  so  it  is  like  enough  working-men  will  be 
able  to  send  to  Parliament  members  who  will 
fight  for  their  interests.  Maybe  that  is  in  your 
favour.  It  will  open  all  our  ports  to  foreign 


312     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

wheat  and  corn.     You  will  get  American  wheat, 
and  Russian  wheat,  and  French  wheat  —  " 

"We  won't  eat  French  wheat,"  said  Adam 
Sedbergh. 

"And  then,  wheat  will  be  so  cheap  that  it  will 
not  pay  English  land-owners  to  sow  it.  Will 
that  help  you  any  ?  " 

"  We  would  rather  grow  our  own  wheat. " 

"To  be  sure.  Reform  will,  happen,  give  you 
shorter  hours  of  work." 

"That  would  be  good,  Master,"  said  the  black- 
smith. 

"  It  will  depend  on  what  you  do  with  the  extra 
hours  of  leisure." 

"We  can  play  skittles,  and  cricket,  and  have  a 
bit  of  wrestling." 

"  Or  sit  in  the  public  house,  and  drink  more 
beer.  I  don't  think  your  wives  will  like  that. 
Besides,  if  you  work  less  time  won't  you  get 
less  wage?  Do  you  think  I  am  going  to  pay  for 
twelve  hours'  work  and  get  ten?  Would  you? 
Will  the  mill-owners  run  factories  for  the  fun 
of  running  them?  Would  you?  And  they  say 
they  hardly  pay  with  twelve  hours'  work.  Men, 
I  tell  you  truly,  I  know  no  more  than  the  babe 
unborn  what  Reform  will  bring  us.  It  may  be 
better  times;  it  may  be  ruin.  But  I  can  say 
one  thing,  sure  and  certain,  you  will  get  more 
trouble  than  you  bargain  for  if  you  take  to 
rioting  about  it.  Your  grandfathers  and  your 
fathers  fought  this  question;  and  they  left  it  to 


At  the  Worst  313 

you  to  quarrel  over.  Very  well,  as  long  as  you 
keep  your  quarrel  in  the  Parliament  Houses,  I 
want  you  to  have  fair  play.  But  if  ever  you 
should  forget  that  there  is  the  great  Common 
Law  behind  all  of  us,  rich  and  poor,  and  think 
to  right  yourselves  with  fire  and  blood,  then  I 
—  your  true  friend  —  would  be  the  first  to  answer 
you  with  cannon,  and  turn  my  scythes  and  shares 
into  swords  against  you.  Wait  patiently  a  bit 
longer.  In  a  few  more  weeks  I  do  verily  believe 
you  will  have  Reform,  and  then  I  hope,  in  my 
soul,  you  will  be  pleased  with  your  bargain.  I 
don't  think,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  Reform 
will  change  me  or  my  ways  one  particle." 

"  We  don't  want  you  changed,  Squire;  you  are 
good  enough  as  you  are." 

"  I  'm  glad  you  think  so,  very  glad.  Now 
here  is  Atheling  and  Belward  meadows  and 
corn-fields.  We  can  raise  our  wheat  and  cattle 
and  wool,  and  carry  on  our  farms  —  you  and  I 
together,  for  I  could  not  do  without  you;  and 
if  I  do  right  by  you  is  there  any  reason  to  want 
better  than  right?  And  if  I  do  not  do  right, 
then  shout  '  Reform, '  and  come  and  tell  me 
what  you  want,  and  we  will  pass  our  own  Reform 
Bill.  Will  that  suit  you  ?  " 

And  they  answered  him  with  cheers,  and  he 
sent  them  into  the  Atheling  Arms  for  a  good 
dinner,  and  then  rode  slowly  home.  But  a  great 
sadness  came  over  him,  and  he  said  to  himself: 

"It  is  not  capital;  it  is  not  labour;  it  is  not 


314     I)  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

land :  it  is  a  bit  of  human  kindness  and  human 
relations  that  lie  at  the  root  of  all  Reform. 
Maude  says  true  enough,  that  we  don't  know  the 
people,  and  don't  feel  for  them,  and  don't  care 
for  them.  A  word  of  reason,  a  word  of  truth  and 
trust  and  of  mutual  good-will,  and  how  pleased 
them  poor  fellows  were !  Reform  has  nothing  on 
earth  to  do  with  Toryism  or  Whigism.  God 
bless  my  soul !  what  kind  of  a  head  must  the 
man  have  that  could  think  so?  /  begin  to  see 
—  /  begin  to  see  !  " 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     315 


CHAPTER   FIFTEENTH 

LADY  OF  EXHAM  HALL  AT  LAST 

THE  three  weeks'  recess  was  full  of  grave  anx- 
iety ;  and  the  Squire  had  many  fears  they  were 
to  be  the  last  weeks  of  peace  and  home  before 
civil  war  called  him  to  fulfil  the  promise  he  had 
made  to  his  working-men.  The  Birmingham 
Political  Union  declared  that  if  there  was  any 
further  delay  after  Easter,  two  hundred  thousand 
men  would  go  forth  from  their  shops  and  forges, 
and  encamp  in  the  London  squares,  till  they 
knew  the  reason  why  the  Reform  Bill  was  not 
passed.  The  Scots  Greys,  who  were  quartered 
at  Birmingham,  had  been  employed  the  previous 
Sabbath  in  grinding  their  swords;  and  it  was 
asserted  that  the  Duke  of  Wellington  stood 
pledged  to  the  Government  to  quiet  the  country 
in  ten  days.  These  facts  sufficiently  indicated 
to  the  Squire  the  temper  of  the  people;  and  he 
set  himself,  as  far  as  he  could,  to  take  all  the 
sweetness  out  of  his  home  life  possible.  The 
memory  of  it  might  have  to  comfort  him  for 
many  days. 

With  his  daughter  always  by  his  side,  he 
rode  up  and  down  the  lands  he  loved;  uncon- 


316    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

sciously  giving  directions  that  might  be  service- 
able if  he  had  to  go  to  a  stormier  field  than  the 
House  of  Commons.  To  Mrs.  Atheling  he 
hardly  suggested  the  possibility;  for  if  he  did, 
she  always  answered  cheerfully,  "  Nonsense, 
John!  The  Bill  will  pass;  and  if  it  does  not 
pass,  Englishmen  have  more  sense  than  they  had 
in  the  days  of  Cromwell.  They  aren't  going  to 
kill  one  another  for  an  Act  of  Parliament." 

But  to  Kate,  as  they  rode  and  walked,  he 
could  worry  and  grumble  comfortably.  She  was 
always  ready  to  sympathise  with  his  fears,  and 
to  encourage  and  suggest  any  possible  hope  of 
peace  and  better  days.  To  see  her  bright  face 
answering  his  every  thought  filled  the  father's 
heart  with  a  joy  that  was  complete. 

"  Bless  thy  dear  soul ! "  he  would  frequently 
say  to  her.  "God's  best  gift  to  a  man  is  a 
daughter  like  thee.  Sons  are  well  enough  to 
carry  on  the  name  and  the  land,  and  bring 
honour  to  the  family;  but  the  man  God  loves 
isn't  left  without  a  daughter  to  sweeten  his  days 
and  keep  his  heart  fresh  and  tender.  Kitty! 
Kitty,  how  I  do  love  thee !  "  And  Kitty  knew 
how  to  answer  such  true  and  noble  affection; 
for,- 

"  Down  the  gulf  of  his  condoled  necessities, 
She  cast  her  best:  she  flung  herself." 

Oh,  sweet  domestic  love !  Surely  it  is  the  spir- 
itual world,  the  abiding  kingdom  of  heaven,  not 
far  from  any  one  of  us. 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     317 

With  a  heavy  heart  the  Squire  went  back  to 
London.  Mrs.  Atheling  took  his  gloom  for  a 
good  sign.  "Your  father  is  always  what  the 
Scotch  call  'fay'  before  trouble,"  she  said  to 
Kate.  "The  day  your  sister  Edith  died  his 
ways  made  me  angry.  You  would  have  thought 
some  great  joy  had  come  to  Atheling.  He  said 
he  was  sure  Edith  was  going  to  live ;  and  I  knew 
she  was  going  to  die.  I  am  glad  he  has  gone  to 
London  sighing  and  shaking  his  head;  it  is  a 
deal  better  sign  than  if  he  had  gone  laughing 
and  shaking  his  bridle.  He  will  meet  Edgar  in 
London,  and  Edgar  won't  let  him  look  forward 
to  trouble." 

But  the  Squire  found  Edgar  was  not  in  Lon- 
don when  he  arrived  there;  and  Piers  was  as 
silent  and  as  gloomy  a  companion  as  a  worrying 
man  could  desire.  He  came  to  dine  with  his 
friend,  and  he  listened  to  all  his  doleful  prog- 
nostications;  but  his  interest  was  forced  and 
languid.  For  he  also  had  lost  the  convictions 
that  made  the  contest  possible  to  him,  and  there 
was  at  the  bottom  of  all  his  reasoning  that  little 
doubt  as  to  the  justice  of  his  cause  which  like- 
wise infected  the  Squire's  more  pronounced 
opinions. 

They  were  sitting  one  evening,  after  dinner, 
almost  silent,  the  Squire  smoking,  Piers  appar- 
ently reading  the  Times,  when  Edgar,  with  an 
almost  boyish  demonstrativeness,  entered  the 
room.  He  drew  a  chair  between  them,  and  sat 


3i 8    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

down,  saying,  "  I  have  just  returned  from  the 
great  Newhall  Hill  meeting.  Father,  think  of 
two  hundred  thousand  men  gathered  there  for 
one  united  purpose." 

"  I  hope  I  have  a  few  better  thoughts  to  keep 
me  busy,  Edgar." 

Piers  looked  up  with  interest.  "  It  must  have 
been  an  exciting  hour  or  two,"  he  said. 

"  I  hardly  knew  whether  I  was  in  the  body  or 
out  of  the  body,"  answered  Edgar.  "For  a 
little  while,  at  least,  I  was  not  conscious  of  the 
flesh.  I  had  a  taste  of  how  the  work  of  eternity 
may  be  done  with  the  soul." 

"The  Times  admits  the  two  hundred  thou- 
sand," said  Piers,  "and  also  that  it  was  a  remark- 
ably orderly  meeting.  Who  opened  it  ?  Was  it 
Mr.  O'Connell?" 

"  The  meeting  was  opened  by  the  singing  of 
a  hymn.  There  were  nine  stanzas  in  it,  and 
every  one  was  sung  with  the  most  enthusiastic 
feeling.  I  remember  only  the  opening  lines: 

u '  Over  mountain,  over  plain, 

Echoing  wide  from  sea  to  sea, 
Peals — and  shall  not  peal  in  vain  — 
The  trumpet  call  of  Liberty  I ' 

But  can  you  imagine  what  a  majestic  volume  of 
sonorous  melody  came  from  those  two  hundred 
thousand  hearts?  It  was  heard  for  miles.  The 
majority  of  the  singers  believed,  with  all  their 
souls,  that  it  was  heard  in  heaven. " 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     319 

"Well,  I  never  before  heard  of  singing  a 
hymn  to  open  a  political  meeting,"  said  the 
Squire.  "It  does  not  seem  natural." 

"  But,  Father,  you  are  used  to  political  meet- 
ings opened  by  prayer,  for  the  House  has  its 
chaplain.  The  Rev.  Hugh  Hutton  prayed  after 
the  hymn." 

"I  never  heard  of  the  Rev.  Hugh  Hutton." 

"  I  dare  say  not,  Father.  He  is  an  Unitarian 
minister;  for  it  is  only  the  Unitarians  that  will 
pray  with,  or  pray  for,  Radicals.  I  should  not 
quite  say  that.  There  is  a  Roman  Catholic 
priest  who  is  a  member  of  the  Birmingham 
Union,  —  a  splendid-looking  man,  a  fine  orator, 
and  full  of  the  noblest  public  spirit;  but  a  Bir- 
mingham meeting  would  never  think  of  asking 
him  to  pray.  They  would  not  believe  a  Catholic 
could  get  a  blessing  down  from  heaven  if  he 
tried."1 

"What  of  O'Connell?"  said  the  Squire;  "he 
interests  me  most." 

"  O'Connell  outdid  himself.  About  four  hun- 
dred women  in  one  body  had  been  allowed  to 
stand  near  the  platform,  and  the  moment  his 
eyes  rested  on  them  his  quick  instinct  decided 
the  opening  sentence  of  his  address.  He  bowed 
to  them,  and  said,  '  Surrounded  as  I  am  by  the 
fair,  the  good,  and  the  gentle.'  They  cheered 
at  these  words;  and  then  the  men  behind  them 

1  This  intolerance,  general  and  common  in  the  England  of 
that  day,  is  now  happily  much  mitigated. 


320    I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

cheered,  and  the  crowds  behind  cheered,  be- 
cause the  crowds  before  cheered;  and  then  he 
launched  into  such  an  arraignment  of  the  Eng- 
lish Government  as  human  words  never  before 
compassed.  And  in  it  he  was  guilty  of  one 
delightful  bull.  It  was  in  this  way.  Among 
other  grave  charges,  he  referred  to  the  fact  that 
births  had  decreased  in  Dublin  five  thousand 
every  year  for  the  last  four  years,  and  then  pas- 
sionately exclaimed,  '  I  charge  the  British  Gov- 
ernment with  the  murder  of  those  twenty  thou- 
sand infants ! '  and  really,  for  a  few  moments,  the 
audience  did  not  see  the  delightful  absurdity." 

"  Twenty  thousand  infants  who  were  never 
born,"  laughed  the  Squire.  "That  is  worthy  of 
O'Connell.  It  is  worthy  of  Ireland." 

"And  did  he  really  manage  that  immense 
crowd  ?  "  asked  Piers.  "  I  see  the  Times  gives 
him  this  credit." 

"  Sir  Bulwer  Lytton  in  a  few  lines  has  painted 
him  for  all  generations  at  this  meeting.  Lis- 
ten ! "  and  Edgar  took  out  of  his  pocket  a  slip  of 
paper,  and  read  them :  — • 

"  '  Once  to  my  sight  the  giant  thus  was  given  — 

Walled  by  wide  air,  and  roofed  by  boundless  heaven ; 

Methought,  no  clarion  could  have  sent  its  sound 

Even  to  the  centre  of  the  hosts  around. 

And  as  I  thought,  rose  the  sonorous  swell 

As  from  some  church  tower  swings  the  silver  bell. 

Aloft  and  clear,  from  airy  tide  to  tide, 

It  glided  easy  as  a  bird  may  glide, 

To  the  last  verge  of  that  vast  audience.'  " 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     321 

"After  O'Connell,  who  would  try  to  manage 
such  a  crowd?  "  asked  Piers. 

"They  behaved  splendidly  whoever  spoke; 
and  finally  Mr.  Salt  stood  forward,  and,  uncov- 
ering his  head,  bid  them  all  uncover,  and  raise 
their  right  hands  to  heaven  while  they  repeated, 
after  him,  the  comprehensive  obligation  which 
had  been  given  in  printed  form  to  all  of  them  : 

"  '  With  unbroken  faith,  through  every  peril,  through 
every  privation,  we  here  devote  ourselves,  and  our  chil- 
dren, to  our  country's  cause  ! ' 

And  while  those  two  hundred  thousand  men 
were  taking  that  oath  together,  I  find  the  House 
of  Lords  was  going  into  Committee  on  the  Re- 
form Bill.  This  time  it  must  pass." 

"It  will  not  pass,"  said  Piers,  "without  the 
most  extreme  measures  are  resorted  to." 

"You  mean  that  the  King  will  be  compelled 
to  create  as  many  new  peers  as  will  carry  it 
through  the  House  of  Lords." 

"  Yes ;  but  can  the  King  be  '  compelled  '  ?  " 

"He  will  find  that  out." 

"  Now,  Edgar,  that  is  as  far  as  I  am  going  to 
listen." 

Then  Piers  put  down  his  paper,  and  said, 
"The  House  was  in  session,  and  would  the 
Squire  go  down  to  it  ?  "  And  the  Squire  said, 
"  No.  If  there  is  to  be  any  '  compelling  '  of  His 
Majesty,  I  will  keep  out  of  it." 

The  stress  of  this  compulsion  came  the  very 


322     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

next  day.  Lord  Lyndhurst  began  the  usual 
policy  by  proposing  important  clauses  of  the 
Bill  should  be  postponed;  and  the  Cabinet  at 
once  decided  to  ask  the  King  to  create  more 
peers.  Sydney  Smith  had  written  to  Lady 
Grey  that  he  was,  "  For  forty,  in  order  to  make 
sure ;  "  but  the  number  was  not  stipulated.  The 
King  promptly  refused.  The  Reform  Ministry 
tendered  their  resignation,  and  it  was  accepted. 
For  a  whole  week  the  nation  was  left  to  its  fears, 
its  anger,  and  its  despair.  It  was,  however, 
almost  insanely  active.  In  Manchester  twenty- 
five  thousand  people,  in  the  space  of  three  hours, 
signed  a  petition  to  the  King,  telling  him  in  it 
that  "  the  whole  North  of  England  was  in  a  state 
of  indignation  impossible  to  be  described." 
Meanwhile,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  had  failed 
to  form  a  Cabinet,  and  Peel  had  refused;  and  the 
King  was  compelled  to  recall  Lord  Grey  to 
power,  and  to  consent  to  any  measures  necessary 
to  pass  the  Reform  Bill.  It  was  evident,  even 
to  royalty,  that  it  had  at  length  become  —  The 
Bill  or  The  Crown.  For  His  Majesty  was  now 
aware  that  he  was  denounced  from  one  end  of 
England  to  the  other;  and  several  painful  expe- 
riences convinced  him  that  his  carriage  could 
not  appear  in  London  without  being  surrounded 
by  an  indignant,  hooting,  shrieking  crowd. 

Yet  it  was  in  a  very  wrathful  mood  he  sent  for 
Grey  and  Brougham,  so  wrathful  that  he  kept 
them  standing  during  the  whole  audience,  al- 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     323 

though  this  attitude  was  contrary  to  usage.  "  My 
people  are  gone  mad,"  he  said,  "  and  must  be 
humoured  like  mad  people.  They  will  have 
Reform.  Very  well.  I  give  you  my  royal  assent 
to  create  a  sufficient  number  of  new  peers  to 
carry  Reform  through  the  House  of  Lords.  It  is 
an  insult  to  my  loyal  and  sensible  peers ;  but  they 
will  excuse  the  circumstances  that  force  me  to 
such  a  measure."  His  manner  was  extremely 
sullen,  and  became  indignantly  so  when  Lord 
Brougham  requested  this  permission  to  be  given 
them  in  the  King's  handwriting.  The  request  was, 
however,  necessary,  and  was  reluctantly  granted. 

With  the  King's  concession,  the  great  struggle 
virtually  ended.  For  the  creation  of  new  peers  was 
not  necessary.  A  private  message  from  the  King 
to  the  House  of  Lords  effected  what  the  long-con- 
tinued protestations  and  entreaties  of  the  whole 
nation  had  failed  to  effect.  Led  by  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  those  Lords  who  were  determined  not 
to  vote  for  Reform  left  the  House  until  the  Bill 
was  passed ;  and  thus  a  decided  majority  for  its 
success  was  assured.  They  felt  it  to  be  better  for 
their  order  to  retire  to  their  castles,  than  to  suffer 
the  "  swamping  of  the  House  of  Lords  "  by  a  force 
of  new  peers  pledged  to  Reform,  and  sure  to  con- 
trol all  their  future  deliberations.  Consequently, 
in  about  two  weeks,  the  famous  Bill  was  trium- 
phantly carried  by  a  majority  of  eighty-four ;  and 
three  days  afterwards  it  received  the  royal  assent. 

The  long  struggle  was  over ;  and  the  tremen- 


324     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

dous  strain  on  the  feelings  of  the  nation  relieved 
itself  by  an  universal  and  unbounded  rejoicing. 
All  night  long,  the  church  bells  answered  one  an- 
other from  city  to  city,  and  from  hamlet  to  ham- 
let. It  was  said  to  be  impossible  to  escape,  from  one 
end  of  the  country  to  the  other,  the  tin-tan-tabula 
of  their  jubilation.  Illuminations  must  have  made 
the  Island  at  night  a  blaze  of  light ;  the  people 
went  about  singing  and  congratulating  each 
other ;  and  for  a  few  hours  the  tie  of  humanity 
was  a  tie  of  brotherhood,  even  when  men  and 
women  were  perfect  strangers. 

The  Duke  of  Richmoor  retired  with  the  majo- 
rity of  his  peers,  and  shut  himself  up  in  his  York- 
shire Castle,  a  victim  to  the  most  absurd  but 
yet  the  most  sincere  despondency.  The  Squire 
applied  for  the  Chiltern  Hundreds,  and  returned 
to  Atheling  as  soon  as  possible.  Edgar  remained 
in  the  House  until  its  dissolution  in  August.  As 
for  Piers,  he  had  taken  the  turn  of  affairs  with  a 
composure  that  had  produced  decided  differences 
between  the  Duke  and  himself;  and  he  lingered 
in  London  until  he  heard  of  the  Squire's  depart- 
ure for  the  North.  Then  he  sought  him  with  a 
definite  purpose.  "  Squire,"  he  said,  "  may  I  go 
back  to  Exham  in  your  company?" 

"  I  '11  be  glad  if  you  do,  Piers,"  was  the  answer. 

The  young  man  laid  his  hand  on  the  Squire's 
hand,  and  looked  at  him  steadily  and  entreatingly. 
"  Squire,  I  am  going  away  from  England.  Let 
me  see  Kate  before  I  go." 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     325 

"You  are  asking  me  to  break  my  word, 
Piers." 

"The  law  of  kindness  may  sometimes  be 
greater  than  the  law  of  truth;  the  greatest  of 
these  is  charity  —  is  love.  I  love  her  so  !  I  love 
her  so  that  I  am  only  half  alive  without  her.  I 
do  entreat  you  to  have  pity  on  me  —  on  us  both  ! 
She  loves  me !  "  and  Piers  pleaded  until  the 
Squire's  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  He  could  not 
resist  words  so  hot  from  a  true  and  loving  heart ; 
and  he  finally  said, — 

"  It  may  be  that  my  word,  and  my  pride  in  my 
word,  are  of  less  consequence  than  the  trouble  of 
two  suffering  human  hearts ;  Piers,  right  or 
wrong,  you  may  see  Kitty.  I  am  not  sure  I  am 
doing  right,  but  I  will  risk  the  uncertainty  —  this 
time." 

However,  if  the  Squire  had  any  qualms  of  con- 
science on  the  subject,  they  were  driven  away  by 
Kitty's  gratitude  and  delight.  He  arrived  at 
Atheling  about  the  noon  hour,  and  Kitty  was  the 
first  to  see  and  to  welcome  him.  She  had  been 
gathering  cherries,  and  was  coming  through  the 
garden  with  her  basket  full  of  the  crimson  drupes, 
when  he  entered  the  gates.  She  set  the  fruit  on 
the  ground,  and  ran  to  meet  him,  and  took  him 
proudly  in  to  her  mother,  and  fussed  over  his 
many  little  comforts  to  his  heart's  content  and 
delight 

Nothing  was  said  about  Piers  until  after  dinner, 
which  was  hurried  forward  at  the  Squire's  re- 


326     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

quest ;  but  afterwards,  when  he  sat  at  the  open 
casement  smoking,  he  called  Kate  to  him.  He 
took  her  on  his  knee  and  whispered,  "  Kate,  there 
is  somebody  coming  this  afternoon." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  we  have  sent  word  to  Annie. 
She  will  be  here." 

"  I  was  not  thinking  of  Annie.  I  was  thinking 
of  thee,  my  little  maid.  There  is  somebody  com- 
ing to  see  thee" 

"You  can't  mean  Piers?  Oh,  Father,  do  you 
mean  Piers?  " 

"  I  do." 

Then  she  laid  her  cheek  against  his  cheek. 
She  kissed  him  over  and  over,  answering  in  low, 
soft  speech,  "  Oh,  my  good  Father  !  Oh,  my  dear 
Father !  Oh,  Father,  how  I  love  you  !  " 

"  Well,  Kitty,"  he  answered,  "  thou  dost  not 
throw  thy  love  away.  I  love  thee,  God  knows 
it.  Now  run  upstairs  and  don  thy  prettiest 
frock." 

"White  or  blue,  Father?" 

"  Well,  Kitty,"  he  answered,  with  a  thoughtful 
smile,  "  I  should  say  white,  and  a  red  rose  or 
two  to  match  thy  cheeks,  and  a  few  forget-me- 
nots  to  match  thy  eyes.  Bless  my  heart,  Kitty ! 
thou  art  lovely  enough  any  way.  Stay  with  me." 

"  No,  Father,  I  will  go  away  and  come  again 
still  lovelier ;  "  and  she  sped  like  a  bird  upstairs. 
"  It  may  be  all  wrong,"  muttered  the  Squire ; 
"  but  if  it  is,  then  I  must  say,  wrong  can  make 
itself  very  agreeable." 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     327 

"Piers  is  coming!"  That  was  the  song  in 
Kitty's  heart,  the  refrain  to  which  her  hands 
and  feet  kept  busy  until  she  stood  before  her 
glass  lovelier  than  words  can  paint,  her  exquis- 
ite form  robed  in  white  lawn,  her  cheeks  as  fresh 
and  blooming  as  the  roses  at  her  girdle,  her  eyes 
as  blue  as  the  forget-me-nots  in  her  hair,  her 
whole  heart  in  every  movement,  glance,  and  word, 
thrilling  with  the  delight  of  expectation,  and 
shining  with  the  joy  of  loving. 

So  Piers  found  her  in  the  garden  watching  for 
his  approach.  And  on  this  happy  afternoon, 
Nature  was  in  a  charming  mood ;  she  had  made 
the  garden  a  Paradise  for  their  meeting.  The 
birds  sang  softly  in  the  green  trees  above  them ; 
the  flowers  perfumed  the  warm  air  they  breathed ; 
and  an  atmosphere  of  inexpressible  serenity  en- 
compassed them.  After  such  long  absence,  oh, 
how  heavenly  was  this  interview  without  fear,  or 
secrecy,  or  self-reproach,  or  suspicion  of  wrong- 
doing !  How  heavenly  was  the  long,  sweet  after- 
noon, and  the  social  pleasure  of  the  tea  hour, 
and  the  soft  starlight  night  under  the  drooping 
gold  of  the  laburnums  and  the  fragrant  clusters  of 
the  damask  roses  !  Even  parting  under  such  cir- 
cumstances was  robbed  of  its  sting;  it  was  only 
"  such  sweet  sorrow."  It  was  glorified  by  its  trust 
and  hope,  and  was  without  the  shadow  of  tears. 

Kitty  came  to  her  father  when  it  was  over ;  and 
her  eyes  were  shining,  and  there  was  a  little  sob 
in  her  heart;  but  she  said  only  happy  words. 


328     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

With  her  arms  around  his  neck  she  whispered, 
"Thank  you,  dear!  "  And  he  answered,  "Thou 
art  gladly  welcome !  Right  or  wrong,  thou  art 
welcome,  Kitty.  My  dear  little  Kitty  !  He  will 
come  back;  I  know  he  will.  A  girl  that  puts 
honour  and  duty  before  love,  crowns  them  with 
love  in  the  end  —  always  so,  dear.  That  is  sure. 
When  will  he  be  back?" 

"  When  the  Duke  and  Duchess  want  him  more 
than  they  want  their  own  way.  He  says  disput- 
ing will  do  harm,  and  not  good ;  but  that  if  a 
difference  is  left  to  the  heart,  the  heart  in  the 
long  run  will  get  the  best  of  the  argument.  I  am 
sure  he  is  right.  Father,  he  is  going  to  send  you 
and  mother  long  letters,  and  so  I  shall  know 
where  he  is ;  and  with  the  joy  of  this  meeting  to 
keep  in  my  memory,  I  am  not  going  to  fret  and 
be  miserable." 

"  That  is  right.  That  is  the  way  to  take  a 
disappointment.  Good  things  are  worth  waiting 
for,  eh,  Kitty?" 

"  And  we  shall  have  so  much  to  interest  us, 
Father.  There  is  Edgar's  marriage  coming ;  and 
it  would  not  do  to  have  two  weddings  in  one 
year,  would  it?  Father,  you  like  Piers?  I  am 
sure  you  do." 

"  I  would  not  have  let  him  put  a  foot  in  Athel- 
ing  to-day  if  I  had  not  liked  him.  He  has  been 
very  good  company  for  me  in  London,  very 
good  company  indeed  —  thoughtful  and  respect- 
ful. Yes,  I  like  Piers." 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     329 

"  Because  —  now  listen,  Father  —  because,  much 
as  I  love  Piers,  I  would  not  be  his  wife  for  all 
England  if  you  and  mother  did  not  like  him." 

"  Bless  my  heart,  Kitty !  Is  not  that  saying  a 
deal?" 

"  No.  It  would  be  no  more  than  justice.  If 
you  should  force  on  me  a  husband  whom  I 
despised  or  disliked,  would  I  not  think  it  very 
wicked  and  cruel?  Then  would  it  not  be  just  as 
wicked  and  cruel  if  I  should  force  on  you  a  son- 
in-law  whom  you  despised  and  disliked  ?  There 
is  not  one  law  of  kindness  for  the  parents,  and 
another  law,  less  kind,  for  the  daughter,  is 
there?" 

"  Thou  art  quite  right,  Kitty.  The  laws  of  the 
Home  and  the  Family  are  equal  laws.  God 
bless  thee  for  a  good  child." 

And,  oh,  how  sweet  were  Kitty's  slumbers  that 
night!  It  is  out  of  earth's  delightful  things  we 
form  our  visions  of  the  world  to  come ;  and  Kate 
understood,  because  of  her  own  pure,  true,  hope- 
ful love,  how  "  God  is  love,"  and  how,  therefore, 
He  would  deny  her  any  good  thing. 

So  the  summer  went  its  way,  peacefully  and 
happily.  In  the  last  days  of  August,  Edgar  was 
married  with  great  pomp  and  splendour;  and 
afterwards  the  gates  of  Gisbourne  stood  wide- 
open,  and  there  were  many  signs  and  promises 
of  wonderful  improvements  and  innovations. 
For  the  young  man  was  a  born  leader  and  organ- 
iser. He  loved  to  control,  and  soon  devised 


330     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

means  to  secure  what  was  so  necessary  to  his 
happiness.  The  Curzons  had  made  their  money 
in  manufactures;  and  Annie  approved  of  such 
use  of  money.  So  very  soon,  at  the  upper  end 
of  Gisbourne,  a  great  mill,  and  a  fine  new  village 
of  cottages  for  its  hands,  arose  as  if  by  magic,  — 
a  village  that  was  to  example  and  carry  out  all 
the  ideas  of  Reform. 

"  Edgar  is  making  a  lot  of  trouble  ready  for 
himself,"  said  the  Squire  to  his  wife ;  "  but 
Edgar  can't  live  without  a  fight  on  hand.  I  '11 
warrant  that  he  gets  more  fighting  than  he  bar- 
gains for ;  a  few  hundreds  of  those  Lancashire 
and  Yorkshire  operatives  are  n't  as  easy  to  man- 
age as  he  seems  to  think.  They  have  '  reformed ' 
their  lawgivers ;  and  they  are  bound  to  '  reform  ' 
their  masters  next." 

The  Squire  had  said  little  about  this  new  influx 
into  his  peaceful  neighbourhood,  but  it  had 
grieved  his  very  soul ;  and  his  wife  wondered  at 
his  reticence,  and  one  day  she  told  him  so. 

"  Well,  Maude,"  he  answered,  "  when  Edgar 
was  one  of  my  household,  I  had  the  right  to  say 
this  and  that  about  his  words  and  ways;  but 
Edgar  is  now  Squire,  and  married  man,  and 
Member  of  Parliament.  He  is  a  Reformer  too, 
and  bound  to  carry  out  his  ideas ;  and,  I  dare  say, 
his  wife  keeps  the  bit  in  his  mouth  hard  enough, 
without  me  pulling  on  it  too.  I  have  taken 
notice,  Maude,  that  these  sweet  little  women 
are  often  very  masterful." 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     331 

"  I  am  sure  his  grandfather  Belward  would 
never  have  suffered  that  mill  chimney  in  his 
sight  for  any  money." 

"  Perhaps  he  could  not  have  helped  it." 

"  Thou  knowest  different.  My  father  always 
made  everything  go  as  he  wanted  it.  The  Bel- 
wards  know  no  other  road  but  their  own  way." 

"  I  should  think  thou  needest  not  tell  me  that. 
I  have  been  learning  it  for  a  quarter  of  a  century." 

"  Now,  John !  When  I  changed  my  name,  I 
changed  my  way  also.  I  have  been  Atheling, 
and  gone  Atheling,  ever  since  I  was  thy  wife." 

"  Pretty  nearly,  Maude.  But  Edgar's  little, 
innocent-faced,  gentle  wife  will  lead  Edgar,  Cur- 
zon  way.  She  has  done  it  already.  Fancy  an 
Atheling,  land  lords  for  a  thousand  years,  turning 
into  a  loom  lord.  Maude,  it  hurts  me ;  but  then, 
it  is  a  bit  of  Reform,  I  suppose." 

For  all  this  interior  dissatisfaction,  the  Squire 
and  his  son  were  good  friends  and  neighbours ; 
and,  in  a  kind  of  a  way,  the  father  approved  the 
changes  made  around  him.  They  came  gradu- 
ally, and  he  did  not  have  to  swallow  the  whole 
dose  at  once.  Besides  he  had  his  daughter. 
And  Kitty  never  put  him  behind  Gisbourne  or 
any  other  cause.  They  were  constant  compan- 
ions. They  threw  their  lines  in  the  trout  streams 
together  through  the  summer  mornings ;  and  in 
the  winter,  she  was  with  him  in  every  hunting 
field.  About  the  house,  he  heard  her  light  foot 
and  her  happy  voice;  and  in  the  evenings,  she 


332     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

read  the  papers  to  him,  and  helped  forward  his 
grumble  at  Peel,  or  his  anger  at  Cobbett. 

At  not  very  long  intervals  there  came  letters 
to  the  Squire,  or  to  Mrs.  Atheling,  which  made 
sunshine  in  the  house  for  many  days  afterwards, 
—  letters  from  Boston,  New  York,  Baltimore, 
Washington,  New  Orleans,  and  finally  from  an 
1  outlandish  place  called  Texas.  Here  Piers 
seemed  to  have  found  the  life  he  had  been 
unconsciously  longing  for.  "  The  people  were 
fighting,"  he  said,  "  for  Liberty :  a  handful  of 
Americans  against  the  whole  power  of  Mexico ; 
fighting,  not  in  words  —  he  was  weary  to  death 
of  words  —  but  with  the  clang  of  iron  on  iron, 
and  the  clash  of  steel  against  steel,  as  in  the  old 
world  battles."  And  he  filled  pages  with  glowing 
encomiums  of  General  Houston,  and  Colonels 
Bowie  and  Crockett,  and  their  wonderful  courage 
and  deeds.  "  And,  oh,  what  a  Paradise  the  land 
was  !  What  sunshine  !  What  moonshine  !  What 
wealth  of  every  good  thing  necessary  for  human 
existence !  " 

When  such  letters  as  these  arrived,  it  was  holi- 
day at  Atheling;  it  was  holiday  in  every  heart 
there ;  and  they  were  read,  and  re-read,  and  dis- 
cussed, till  their  far-away,  wild  life  became  part 
and  parcel  of  the  calm,  homely  existence  of  this 
insular  English  manor.  So  the  years  went  by; 
and  Kate  grew  to  a  glorious  womanhood.  All 
the  promise  of  her  beauteous  girlhood  was  amply 
redeemed.  She  was  the  pride  of  her  county, 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     333 

and  the  joy  of  all  the  hearts  that  knew  her.  And 
if  she  had  hours  of  restlessness  and  doubt,  or 
any  fears  for  Piers's  safety,  no  one  was  made 
unhappy  by  them.  She  never  spoke  of  Piers  but 
with  hope,  and  with  the  certainty  of  his  return. 
She  declared  she  was  "  glad  that  he  should  have 
the  experience  of  such  a  glorious  warfare,  one 
in  which  he  had  made  noble  friends,  and  done 
valiant  deeds.  Her  lover  was  growing  in  such 
a  struggle  to  his  full  stature."  And,  undoubtedly, 
the  habit  of  talking  hopefully  induces  the  habit  of 
feeling  hopefully ;  so  there  were  no  signs  of  the 
love-lorn  maiden  about  Kate  Atheling,  nor  any  fears 
for  her  final  happiness  in  Atheling  Manor  House. 

The  fears  and  doubts  and  wretchedness  were 
all  in  the  gloomy  castle  of  Richmoor,  where  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  lived  only  to  bewail  the  dan- 
gers of  the  country,  and  their  deprivation  of  their 
son's  society,  —  a  calamity  they  attributed  also 
to  Reform.  Else,  why  would  Piers  have  gone 
straight  to  a  wild  land  where  outlawed  men 
were  also  fighting  against  legitimate  authority. 

One  evening,  nearly  four  years  after  Piers  had 
left  England,  the  Duke  was  crossing  Belward 
Bents,  and  he  met  the  Squire  and  his  daughter, 
leisurely  riding  together  in  the  summer  gloaming. 
He  touched  his  hat,  and  said,  "  Good-evening, 
Miss  Atheling  !  Good-evening,  Squire  !  "  And 
the  Squire  responded  cheerfully,  and  Kate  gave 
him  a  ravishing  smile,  —  for  he  was  the  father  of 
Piers,  accordingly  she  already  loved  him.  There 


334     I»  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

was  nothing  further  said,  but  each  was  affected 
by  the  interview ;  the  Duke  especially  so.  When 
he  reached  his  castle  he  found  the  Duchess  walk- 
ing softly  up  and  down  the  dim  drawing-room, 
and  she  was  weeping.  His  heart  ached  for  her. 
He  said  tenderly,  as  he  took  her  hand,  — 

"Is  it  Piers,  Julia?" 

"  I  am  dying  to  see  him,"  she  answered,  "  to 
hear  him  speak,  to  have  him  come  in  and  out 
as  he  used  to  do.  I  want  to  feel  the  clasp  of  his 
hand,  and  the  touch  of  his  lips.  Oh,  Richard, 
Richard,  bring  back  my  boy !  A  word  from  you 
will  do  it." 

"  My  dear  Julia,  I  have  just  met  Squire  Athel- 
ing  and  his  daughter.  The  girl  has  grown  to  a 
wonder  of  beauty.  She  is  marvellous ;  I  simply 
never  saw  such  a  face.  Last  week  I  watched  her 
in  the  hunting  field  at  Ashley.  She  rode  like  an 
Amazon ;  she  was  peerless  among  all  the  beauties 
there.  I  begin  to  understand  that  Piers,  having 
loved  her,  could  love  no  other  woman;  and  I 
think  we  might  learn  to  love  her  for  Piers's  sake. 
What  do  you  say,  my  dear?  The  house  is  terri- 
bly lonely.  I  miss  my  son  in  business  matters  con- 
tinually ;  and  if  he  does  not  marry,  the  children  of 
my  brother  Henry  come  after  him.  He  is  in  con- 
stant danger ;  he  is  in  a  land  where  he  must  go 
armed  day  and  night.  Think  of  our  son  living  in 
a  place  like  that !  And  his  last  letters  have  had 
such  a  tone  of  home-sickness  in  them.  Shall  I  see 
Squire  Atheling,  and  ask  him  for  his  daughter?" 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     335 

"  Let  him  come  and  see  you." 

"  He  will  never  do  it." 

"  Then  see  him,  Richard.  Anything,  anything, 
that  will  give  Piers  back  to  me." 

The  next  day  the  Duke  was  at  Atheling,  and 
what  took  place  at  that  interview,  the  Squire 
never  quite  divulged,  even  to  his  wife.  "  It  was 
very  humbling  to  him,"  he  said,  "  and  I  am  not 
the  man  to  brag  about  it."  To  Kate  nothing  what- 
ever was  said.  "  Who  knows  just  where  Piers  is? 
and  who  can  tell  what  might  happen  before  he 
learns  of  the  change  that  has  taken  place  ?  "  asked 
the  Squire.  "  Why  should  we  toss  Kitty's  mind 
hither  and  thither  till  Piers  is  here  to  quiet  it?  " 

In  fact  the  Squire's  idea  was  far  truer  than  he 
had  any  conception  of.  Piers  was  actually  in 
London  when  the  Duke's  fatherly  letter  sent  to 
recall  his  self-banished  son  left  for  Texas.  In- 
deed he  was  on  his  way  to  Richmoor  the  very 
day  that  the  letter  was  written.  He  came  to  it 
one  afternoon  just  before  dinner.  The  Duchess 
was  dressed  and  waiting  for  the  Duke  and  the 
daily  ceremony  of  the  hour.  She  stood  at  the 
window,  looking  into  the  dripping  garden,  but 
really  seeing  nothing,  not  even  the  plashed  roses 
before  her  eyes.  Her  thoughts  were  in  a  country 
far  off;  and  she  was  wondering  how  long  it  would 
take  Piers  to  answer  their  loving  letter.  The  door 
opened  softly.  She  supposed  it  was  the  Duke, 
and  said,  fretfully,  "  This  climate  is  detestable, 
Duke.  It  has  rained  for  a  week." 


336     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"  Mother  !  Mother!  Oh,  my  dear  Mother  !  " 

Then,  with  a  cry  of  joy  that  rung  through  the 
lofty  room,  she  turned,  and  was  immediately  folded 
in  the  arms  she  longed  for.  And  before  her  rap- 
ture had  time  to  express  itself,  the  Duke  came  in 
and  shared  it.  They  were  not  an  emotional  fam- 
ily ;  and  high  culture  had  relegated  any  expression 
of  feeling  far  below  the  tide  of  their  daily  life ;  but, 
for  once,  Nature  had  her  way  with  the  usually  un- 
demonstrative woman.  She  wept,  and  laughed, 
and  talked,  and  exclaimed  as  no  one  had  ever  seen 
or  heard  her  since  the  days  of  her  early  girlhood. 

In  the  happy  privacy  of  the  evening  hours, 
Piers  told  them  over  again  the  wild,  exciting 
story  he  had  been  living  ;  and  the  Duke  acknowl- 
edged that  to  have  aided  in  any  measure  such 
an  heroic  struggle  was  an  event  to  dignify  life. 
"  But  now,  Piers,"  he  said,  "  now  you  will  remain 
in  your  own  home.  If  you  still  wish  to  marry 
Miss  Atheling,  your  mother  and  I  are  pleased 
that  you  should  do  so.  We  will  express  this 
pleasure  as  soon  as  you  desire  us.  I  wrote  you 
to  this  effect ;  but  you  cannot  have  received  my 
letter,  since  it  only  left  for  Texas  yesterday." 

"  I  am  glad  I  have  not  received  it,"  answered 
Piers.  "  I  came  home  at  the  call  of  my  mother. 
It  is  true.  I  was  sitting  one  night  thinking  of 
many  things.  It  was  long  past  midnight,  but 
the  moonlight  was  so  clear  I  had  been  reading 
by  it,  and  the  mocking  birds  were  thrilling  the 
air,  far  and  wide,  with  melody.  But  far  clearer,  far 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     337 

sweeter,  far  more  pervading,  I  heard  my  mother's 
voice  calling  me.  And  I  immediately  answered, 
'  I  am  coming,  Mother  ! '  Here  I  am.  What  must 
I  do,  now  and  forever,  to  please  you  ?  " 

And  she  said,  "Stay  near  me.  Marry  Miss  Athel- 
ing,  if  you  wish.  I  will  love  her  for  your  sake." 

And  Piers  kissed  his  answer  on  her  lips,  and  then 
put  his  hand  in  his  father's  hand.  It  was  but  a  sim- 
ple act ;  but  it  promised  all  that  fatherly  affection 
could  ask,  and  all  that  filial  affection  could  give. 

Who  that  has  seen  in  England  a  sunny  morn- 
ing after  a  long  rain-storm  can  ever  forget  the 
ineffable  sweetness  and  freshness  of  the  woods 
and  hills  and  fields?  The  world  seemed  as  if  it 
was  just  made  over  when  Piers  left  Richmoor  for 
Atheling.  A  thousand  vagrant  perfumes  from 
the  spruce  and  fir  woods,  from  the  moors  and 
fields  and  gardens,  wandered  over  the  earth. 
A  gentle  west  wind  was  blowing;  the  sense  of 
rejoicing  was  in  every  living  thing.  The  Squire 
and  Kate  had  been  early  abroad.  They  had  had 
a  long  gallop,  and  were  coming  slowly  through 
Atheling  lane,  talking  of  Piers,  though  both  of 
them  believed  Piers  to  be  thousands  of  miles 
away.  They  were  just  at  the  spot  where  he  had 
passed  them  that  miserable  night  when  his  cry 
of  "Kate  !  Kate!  Kate!"  had  nearly  broken  the 
girl's  heart  for  awhile.  She  never  saw  the  place 
without  remembering  her  lover,  and  sending  her 
thoughts  to  find  him  out,  wherever  he  might  be. 
And  thus,  at  this  place,  there  was  always  a  little 


338     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

silence;  and  the  Squire  comprehended,  and  re- 
spected the  circumstance. 

This  morning  the  silence,  usually  so  perfect, 
was  broken  by  the  sound  of  an  approaching 
horseman;  but  neither  the  Squire  nor  Kate 
turned.  They  simply  withdrew  to  their  side  of 
the  road,  and  went  leisurely  forward. 

"Kate!  Kate!  Kate!" 

The  same  words,  but  how  different !  They 
were  full  of  impatient  joy,  of  triumphant  hope 
and  love.  Both  father  and  daughter  faced  round 
in  the  moment,  and  then  they  saw  Piers  coming 
like  the  wind  towards  them.  It  was  a  miracle. 
It  was  such  a  moment  as  could  not  come  twice 
in  any  life-time.  It  was  such  a  meeting  as  defies 
the  power  of  words ;  because  our  diviner  part 
has  emotions  that  we  have  not  yet  got  the 
speech  and  language  to  declare. 

Imagine  the  joy  in  Atheling  Manor  House  that 
night!  The  Squire  had  to  go  apart  for  a  little 
while;  and  tears  of  delight  were  in  the  good 
mother's  eyes  as  she  took  out  her  beautiful 
Derby  china  for  the  welcoming  feast.  As  for 
Kate  and  Piers,  they  were  at  last  in  earth's 
Paradise.  Their  lives  had  suddenly  come  to 
flower ;  and  there  was  no  canker  in  any  of  the 
blossoms.  They  had  waited  their  full  hour. 
And  if  the  angels  in  heaven  rejoice  over  a  sinner 
repenting,  how  much  more  must  they  rejoice  in 
our  happiness,  and  sympathise  in  our  innocent 
love !  Surely  the  guardian  angels  of  Piers  and 


Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  Last     339 

Kate  were  satisfied.  Their  dear  charges  had 
shown  a  noble  restraint,  and  were  now  reaping 
the  joy  of  it.  Do  angels  talk  in  heaven  of  what 
happens  among  the  sons  and  daughters  of  men 
whom  they  are  sent  to  minister  unto,  to  guide, 
and  to  guard  ?  If  so,  they  must  have  talked  of 
these  lovers,  so  dutiful  and  so  true,  and  rejoiced 
in  the  joy  of  their  renewed  espousals. 

Their  marriage  quickly  followed.  In  a  few  weeks 
Piers  had  made  Exham  Hall  a  palace  of  splen- 
dour and  beauty  for  his  bride,  and  Kate's  wedding 
garments  were  all  ready.  And  far  and  wide  there 
was  a  most  unusual  interest  taken  in  these  lovers, 
so  that  all  the  great  county  families  desired  and 
sought  for  invitations  to  the  marriage  ceremony, 
and  the  little  church  of  Atheling  could  hardly  con- 
tain the  guests.  Even  to  this  day  it  is  remembered 
that  nearly  one  hundred  gentlemen  of  the  North 
Riding  escorted  the  bride  from  Atheling  to  Exham. 

But  at  last  every  social  duty  had  been  fulfilled, 
and  they  sat  alone  in  the  gloaming,  with  their 
great  love,  and  their  great  joy.  And  as  they 
spoke  of  the  days  when  this  love  first  began, 
Kate  reminded  Piers  of  the  swing  in  the  laurel 
walk,  and  her  girlish  rhyming, — 

"  It  may  so  happen,  it  may  so  fall, 
That  I  shall  be  Lady  of  Exham  Hall." 

And  Piers  drew  her  beautiful  head  closer  to  his 
own,  and  added,  — 

"  Weary  wishing,  and  waiting  past, 
Lady  of  Exham  Hall  at  last ! " 


340     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 


CHAPTER   SIXTEENTH 

AFTER  TWENTY   GOLDEN  YEARS 

AFTER  twenty  years  have  passed  away,  it  is 
safe  to  ask  if  events  have  been  all  that  they 
promised  to  be ;  and  one  morning  in  August  of 
1857,  it  was  twenty  years  since  Kate  Atheling 
became  Lady  Exham.  She  was  sitting  at  a  table 
writing  letters  to  her  two  eldest  sons,  who  were 
with  their  tutor  in  the  then  little  known  Hebrides. 
Lord  Exham  was  busy  with  his  mail.  They  were 
in  a  splendid  room,  opening  upon  a  lawn,  soft 
and  green  beyond  description  ;  and  the  August 
sunshine  and  the  August  lilies  filled  it  with 
warmth  and  fragrance.  Lady  Exham  was  even 
more  beautiful  than  on  her  wedding  day.  Time 
had  matured  without  as  yet  touching  her  wonder- 
ful loveliness,  and  motherhood  had  crowned  it 
with  a  tender  and  bewitching  nobility.  She  had 
on  a  gown  of  lawn  and  lace,  white  as  the  flowers 
that  hung  in  clusters  from  the  Worcester  vase  at 
her  side.  Now  and  then  Piers  lifted  his  head  and 
watched  her  for  a  moment;  and  then,  with  the 
faint,  happy  smile  of  a  heart  full  and  at  ease,  he 
opened  another  letter  or  paper.  Suddenly  he 
became  a  little  excited.  "  Why,  Kate,"  he  said, 


After  Twenty  Golden  Years     341 

"  here  is  my  speech  on  the  blessings  which 
Reform  has  brought  to  England.  I  did  not 
expect  such  a  thing." 

"  Read  it  to  me,  Piers." 

"  It  is  entirely  too  long ;  although  I  only 
reviewed  some  of  the  notable  works  that  followed 
Reform." 

"Such  as—" 

"  Well,  the  abolition  of  both  black  and  white 
slavery;  the  breaking  up  of  the  gigantic  monop- 
oly of  the  East  India  Company,  and  the  throwing 
open  of  our  ports  to  the  merchants  of  the  world ; 
the  inauguration  of  a  system  of  national  edu- 
cation ;  the  reform  of  our  cruel  criminal  code ; 
the  abolition  of  the  press  gang,  and  of  chimney 
sweeping  by  little  children,  and  such  brutalities ; 
the  postal  reform ;  and  the  spread  of  such  good, 
cheap  literature  as  the  Penny  Magazine  and 
Chambers 's  Magazine.  My  dear  Kate,  it  would 
require  a  book  to  tell  all  that  the  Reform  Bill 
has  done  for  England.  Think  of  the  misery  of 
that  last  two  years'  struggle,  and  look  at  our 
happy  country  to-day." 

"  Prosperous,  but  not  happy,  Piers.  How  can 
we  be  happy  when,  all  over  the  land,  mothers  are 
weeping  because  their  children  are  not.  If  this 
awful  Sepoy  rebellion  was  only  over;  then!  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Piers ;  "  if  it  was  only  over  ! 
Surely  there  never  was  a  war  so  full  of  strange, 
unnatural  cruelties.  I  wonder  where  Cecil  and 
Annabel  are." 


342     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

"Wherever  they  are,  I  am  sure  both  of  them 
will  be  in  the  way  of  honour  and  duty." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  Piers  asked,  "  To 
whom  are  you  writing,  dear  Kate?" 

"To  Dick  and  John.  They  do  not  want  to 
return  to  their  studies  this  winter ;  they  wish  to 
travel  in  Italy." 

"  Nonsense  !  They  must  go  through  college 
before  they  travel.  Tell  them  so." 

The  Duke  had  entered  as  Piers  was  speaking, 
and  he  listened  to  his  remark.  Then,  even  as  he 
stooped  to  kiss  Kate,  he  contradicted  it.  "  I 
don't  think  so,  Piers,"  he  said  decisively.  "  Let 
the  boys  go.  Give  them  their  own  way  a  little. 
I  do  not  like  to  see  such  spirited  youths  snubbed 
for  a  trifle." 

"  But  this  is  not  a  trifle,  Father." 

"Yes,  it  is." 

"  You  insisted  on  my  following  the  usual  plan 
of  college  first,  and  travel  afterwards." 

"That  was  before  the  days  of  Reform.  The 
boys  are  my  grandsons.  I  think  I  ought  to 
decide  on  a  question  of  this  kind.  What  do  you 
say,  my  dear?"  and  he  turned  his  kindly  face, 
with  its  crown  of  snowy  hair,  to  Kate. 

"  It  is  to  be  as  you  say,  Father,"  she  answered. 
"  Is  there  any  Indian  news?  " 

"Alas!  Alas!"  he  answered,  becoming  sud- 
denly very  sorrowful,  "  there  is  calamitous  news, 
—  the  fort  in  which  Colonel  North  was  shut  up, 
has  fallen ;  and  Cecil  and  Annabel  are  dead." 


After  Twenty  Golden  Years     343 

"Oh,  not  massacred!  Do  not  tell  us  that!" 
cried  Kate,  covering  her  ears  with  her  hands. 

"  Not  quite  as  bad.  A  Sepoy  who  was  Cecil's 
orderly,  and  much  attached  to  him,  has  been 
permitted  to  bring  us  the  terrible  news,  with 
some  valuable  gems  and  papers  which  Annabel 
confided  to  him.  He  told  me  that  Cecil  held  out 
wonderfully ;  but  it  was  impossible  to  send  him 
help.  Their  food  and  ammunition  were  gone; 
and  the  troops,  who  were  mainly  Sepoys,  were 
ready  to  open  the  gates  to  the  first  band  of  rebels 
that  approached.  One  morning,  just  at  daybreak, 
Cecil  knew  the  hour  had  come.  Annabel  was 
asleep ;  but  he  awakened  her.  She  had  been 
expecting  the  call  for  many  days  ;  and,  when  Cecil 
spoke,  she  knew  it  was  death.  But  she  rose  smil- 
ing, and  answered,  '  I  am  ready,  Love.'  He  held 
her  close  to  his  breast,  and  they  comforted  and 
strengthened  one  another  until  the  tramp  of  the 
brutes  entering  the  court  was  heard.  Then 
Annabel  closed  her  eyes,  and  Cecil  sent  a  merci- 
ful bullet  through  the  brave  heart  that  had  shared 
with  him,  for  twenty-five  years,  every  trial  and 
danger.  Her  last  words  were,  '  Come  quickly, 
Cecil,'  and  he  followed  her  in  an  instant.  The 
man  says  he  hid  their  bodies,  and  they  were  not 
mutilated.  But  the  fort  was  blown  up  and  burned ; 
and,  in  this  case,  the  fiery  solution  was  the  best." 

"And  her  children?"  whispered  Kate. 

"  The  boys  are  at  Rugby.  The  little  girl  died 
some  weeks  ago." 


344     I»  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

The  Duke  was  much  affected.  He  had  loved 
Annabel  truly,  and  her  tragic  death  powerfully 
moved  him.  "  The  Duchess,"  he  said,  "  had 
wept  herself  ill;  and  he  had  promised  her  to 
return  quickly."  But  as  he  went  away,  he  turned 
to  charge  Piers  and  Kate  not  to  disappoint  his 
grandsons.  "They  are  such  good  boys,"  he 
added  ;  "  and  it  is  not  a  great  matter  to  let  them 
go  to  Italy,  if  they  want  to  —  only  send  Stanhope 
with  them." 

No  further  objection  was  then  made.  Kate 
had  learned  that  it  is  folly  to  oppose  things  yet 
far  away,  and  which  are  subject  to  a  thousand 
unforeseen  influences.  When  the  time  for  decision 
came,  Dick  and  John  might  have  changed  their 
wishes.  So  she  only  smiled  a  present  assent,  and 
then  let  her  thoughts  fly  to  the  lonely  fort  where 
Cecil  and  Annabel  had  suffered  and  conquered 
the  last  great  enemy.  For  a  few  minutes,  Piers 
was  occupied  in  the  same  manner ;  and  when  he 
spoke,  it  was  in  the  soft,  reminiscent  voice  which 
memory  —  especially  sad  memory  —  uses. 

"It  is  strange,  Kate,"  he  said,  "but  I  remember 
Annabel  predicting  this  end  for  herself.  We  were 
sitting  in  the  white-and-gold  parlour  in  the 
London  House,  where  I  had  found  her  playing 
with  the  cat  in  a  very  merry  mood.  Suddenly 
she  imagined  the  cat  had  scratched  her,  and  she 
spread  out  her  little  brown  hand,  and  looked  for 
the  wound.  There  was  none  visible ;  but  she 
pointed  to  a  certain  spot  at  the  base  of  her  finger, 


After  Twenty  Golden  Years     345 

and  said,  '  Look,  Piers.  There  is  the  sign  of  my 
doom,  —  my  death-token.  I  shall  perish  in  fire 
and  blood.'  Then  she  laughed  and  quickly 
changed  the  subject,  and  I  did  not  think  it  worth 
pursuing.  Yet  it  was  in  her  mind,  for  a  few 
minutes  afterwards,  she  opened  her  hand  again, 
held  it  to  the  light,  and  added,  '  An  old  Hindoo 
priest  told  me  this.  He  said  our  death-warrant 
was  written  on  our  palms,  and  we  brought  it  into 
life  with  us.' " 

"  You  should  have  contradicted  that,  Piers." 

"  I  did.  I  told  her,  our  death-warrant  was  in 
the  Hand  of  Him  with  whom  alone  are  the  issues 
of  life  and  death." 

"  She  was  haunted  by  the  prophecy,"  said  Kate. 
"  She  often  spoke  of  it.  Oh,  Piers,  how  merciful 
is  the  veil  that  hides  our  days  to  come !  " 

"I  feel  wretched.  Let  us  go  to  Atheling;  it 
will  do  us  good." 

"  It  is  very  warm  yet,  Piers." 

"Never  mind,  I  want  to  see  the  children. 
The  house  is  too  still.  They  have  been  at 
Atheling  for  three  days." 

"  We  promised  them  a  week.  Harold  will 
expect  the  week;  and  Edith  and  Maude  will 
rebel  at  any  shorter  time." 

"  At  any  rate  let  us  go  and  see  them." 

"Shall  we  ride  there?" 

"  Let  us  rather  take  a  carriage.  One  of  the 
three  may  possibly  be  willing  to  come  back  with 
us." 


346     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

Near  the  gates  of  Atheling  they  met  the  Squire 
and  his  grandson  Harold.  They  had  been  fish- 
ing. "  The  dew  was  on  the  grass  when  we  went 
away ;  and  Harold  has  been  into  the  water  after 
the  trout.  We  are  both  a  bit  wet,"  said  the 
Squire;  "but  our  baskets  are  full."  And  then 
Harold  leaped  into  the  carriage  beside  his  father 
and  mother,  and  proudly  exhibited  his  speckled 
beauties. 

Mrs.  Atheling  had  heard  their  approach,  and 
she  was  at  the  open  door  to  meet  them.  Very 
little  change  had  taken  place  in  her.  Her  face 
was  a  trifle  older,  but  it  was  finer  and  tenderer ; 
and  her  smile  was  as  sweet  and  ready,  and  her 
manner  as  gracious — though  perhaps  a  shade 
quieter  than  in  the  days  when  we  first  met  her. 
Her  granddaughter  Edith,  a  girl  of  eight  years, 
stood  at  her  side ;  and  Maude,  a  charming  babe 
of  four,  clung  to  her  black-silk  apron,  and  half- 
hid  her  pretty  face  in  its  sombre  folds.  To  her 
mother,  Kate  was  still  Kate ;  and  to  Kate,  mother 
was  still  mother.  They  went  into  the  house  to- 
gether, little  Maude  making  a  link  between  them, 
and  Edith  holding  her  mother's  hand.  But,  in  the 
slight  confusion  following  their  arrival,  the  children 
all  disappeared. 

"They  were  helping  Bradley  to  make  tarts," 
said  Mrs.  Atheling,  "when  I  called  them,  and 
they  have  gone  back  to  their  pastry  and  jam. 
Let  them  alone.  Dear  me !  I  remember  how 
proud  I  was  when  I  first  cut  pastry  round  the 


After  Twenty  Golden  Years     347 

patty  pans  with  my  thumb,"  and  Mrs.  Atheling 
looked  at  Kate,  who  smiled  and  nodded  at  her 
own  similar  memory. 

They  were  soon  seated  in  the  large  parlour, 
where  all  the  windows  were  open,  and  a  faint 
little  breeze  stirring  the  cherry  leaves  round 
them.  Then  the  Squire  began  to  talk  of  the 
Indian  news ;  and  Piers  told,  with  a  pitiful  pathos, 
the  last  tragic  act  in  Cecil's  and  Annabel's  love 
and  life.  And  when  he  had  finished  the  narra- 
tion, greatly  to  every  one's  amazement,  the  Squire 
rose  to  his  feet,  and,  lifting  his  eyes  heavenward, 
said  solemnly,  — 

"  I  give  hearty  thanks  for  their  death,  so  noble 
and  so  worthy  of  their  faith  and  their  race.  I 
give  hearty  thanks  because  God,  knowing  their 
hearts  and  their  love,  committed  unto  them  the 
dismissing  of  their  own  souls  from  the  wanton 
cruelty  of  incarnate  devils.  I  give  hearty  thanks 
for  Love  triumphant  over  Death,  and  for  that 
faith  in  our  immortality  which  could  command 
an  immediate  re-union,  '  Come  quickly,  Cecil ! ' 

"  There  is  nothing  to  cry  about,"  he  added,  as 
he  resumed  his  seat.  "  Death  must  come  to  all 
of  us.  It  came  mercifully  to  these  two.  It  did 
not  separate  them ;  they  went  together.  Some- 
where in  God's  Universe  they  are  now,  without 
doubt,  doing  His  Will  together.  Let  us  give 
thanks  for  them." 

After  a  little  while,  Kate  and  her  mother  went 
away.  They  had  many  things  to  talk  over  about 


348     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

which  masculine  opinions  were  not  necessary,  nor 
even  desirable.  And  the  Squire  and  Piers  had, 
in  a  certain  way,  a  similar  confidence.  Indeed 
the  Squire  told  Piers  many  things  he  would  not 
have  told  any  one  else,  —  little  wrongs  and  wor- 
ries not  worth  complaining  about  to  his  wife,  and 
perhaps  about  which  he  was  not  very  certain  of 
her  sympathy.  But  writh  Piers,  these  crept  into 
his  conversation,  and  were  talked  away,  or  at 
least  considerably  lessened,  by  his  son-in-law's 
patient  interest. 

This  morning  their  conversation  had  an  uncon- 
scious tone  of  gratified  prophecy  in  it.  "  Edgar 
is  in  a  lot  of  trouble,"  he  said  ;  "  but  then  he  seems 
to  enjoy  it.  His  hands  gathered  in  the  mill-yard 
yesterday  and  gave  him  what  they  call,  '  a  bit  of 
their  mind.'  And  their  '  mind  '  is  n't  what  you 
and  I  would  call  a  civil  one.  Luke  Staley,  a  big 
dyer  from  Oldham,  got  beyond  bearing,  and 
told  Edgar,  if  he  did  n't  do  thus  and  so,  he  would 
be  made  to.  And  Edgar  can  be  very  provoking. 
He  did  n't  tell  me  what  he  said ;  but  I  have  no 
doubt  it  was  a  few  of  the  strongest  words  he 
could  pick  out.  And  Luke  Staley,  not  having 
quite  such  a  big  private  stock  as  Edgar,  doubled 
his  fist,  to  make  the  shortage  good,  almost  in 
Edgar's  face;  and  there  would  have,  maybe, 
been  a  few  blows,  if  Edgar  had  not  taken  very 
strong  measures  at  once, — that  is,  Piers,  he 
knocked  the  fellow  down  as  flat  as  a  pancake. 
And  then  all  was  so  still  that,  Edgar  said,  the 


After  Twenty  Golden  Years     349 

very  leaves  rustling  seemed  noisy;  and  he  told 
them  in  his  masterful  way,  they  could  have  five 
minutes  to  get  back  to  their  looms.  And  if  they 
were  not  back  in  five  minutes,  he  promised  them 
he  would  dump  the  fires  and  lock  the  gates,  and 
they  could  go  about  their  business." 

"  And  they  went  to  their  looms,  of  course?" 
"  To  be  sure  they  did.  More  than  that,  Luke 
Staley  picked  himself  up,  and  went  civilly  to 
Edgar  and  said,  '  That  was  a  good  knock-down. 
I  'm  beat  this  time,  Master ; '  and  he  offered  his 
hand,  blue  and  black  with  dyes,  and  Edgar  took 
it.  My  word !  how  his  grandfather  Belward 
would  have  enjoyed  that  scene.  I  am  sorry  he 
is  not  alive  this  day.  He  missed  a  deal  by  dying 
before  Reform.  Edgar  and  he  together  could 
keep  a  thousand  men  at  their  looms  —  and  set 
the  price,  too." 

"What  did  the  men  want?  " 
"  A  bit  of  Reform,  of  course,  —  more  wage  and 
less  work.  I  am  not  much  put  out  of  the  way 
now,  Piers,  with  the  mill.  I  get  a  lot  of  pleasure 
out  of  it,  one  road  or  another.  Did  I  ever  tell 
you  about  the  Excursion  Edgar  gave  them  last 
week?" 

"  I  have  not  heard  anything  about  it." 
"  Well,  you  see,  Edgar  sent  all  his  hands  and 
their  wives  and  sweethearts  to  the  seaside,  and 
gave  them  a  good  dinner;  and  they  had  a  band 
of  music  to  play  for  them,  and  a  little  steamer  to 
give  them  a  sail ;  and  they  came  home  at  mid- 


350     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

night,  singing  and  in  high  good  humour.  Edgar 
thought  he  had  pleased  them.  Not  a  bit  of  it ! 
Two  nights  after  they  held  a  meeting  in  that 
Mechanics  Hall  Mrs.  Atheling  built  for  them. 
What  for?  To  talk  over  the  jaunt,  and  try  and 
find  out,  '  What  Master  Atheling  was  up  to!  You 
see  they  were  sure  he  had  a  selfish  motive  of 
some  kind." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  had  a  single  selfish  motive ; 
he  is  not  a  selfish  man,"  said  Piers. 

"  I  would  n't  swear  to  his  motives,  Piers.  Be- 
tween you  and  me,  he  wants  to  go  to  Parliament 
again." 

"  He  ought  to  be  there ;  it  is  his  native  heath, 
in  a  manner." 

"  Well,  as  I  said,  one  way  or  another,  I  get  a 
lot  of  pleasure  out  of  these  men.  There  is  a 
truce  on  now  between  them  and  Edgar ;  but,  in 
the  main,  it  is  a  lively  truce." 

"  Edgar  seems  to  enjoy  the  conditions,  also, 
Father." 

"  Well,  he  ought  to  have  a  bit  of  something 
that  pleases  him.  He  has  a  deal  of  contrary 
things  to  fight.  There  is  his  eldest  son." 

"Augustus?" 

"  Yes,  Augustus." 

"What  has  Augustus  done?  " 

"  He  will  paint  pictures  and  make  little  figures, 
and  waste  his  time  about  such  things  as  no 
Atheling  in  this  world  ever  bothered  his  head 
about,  —  unless  he  wanted  his  likeness  painted. 


After  Twenty  Golden  Years     35 1 

The  lad  does  wonders  with  his  colours  and 
brushes,  and  I  '11  allow  that.  He  brought  me  a 
bit  of  canvas  with  that  corner  by  the  fir  woods 
on  it,  and  you  would  have  thought  you  could 
pull  the  grass  and  drink  the  water.  But  I  did 
not  think  it  right  to  praise  him  much.  I  said, 
'Very  good,  Augustus,  but  what  will  you  make 
by  this?'" 

"Well?" 

"  Well,  Piers,  the  lad  talked  about  his  ideals, 
and  said  Art  was  its  own  reward,  and  a  lot  of 
rubbishy  nonsense.  But  I  never  expected  much 
from  a  boy  called  Augustus.  That  was  his 
mother's  whim ;  no  Atheling  was  ever  called 
such  a  name  before.  He  wants  to  go  to  Italy, 
and  his  father  wants  him  in  the  mill.  Edgar  is 
finding  a  few  things  out  now  he  did  n't  believe 
in  when  he  was  twenty  years  old.  The  point  of 
view  is  everything,  Piers.  Edgar  looks  at  things 
as  a  father  looks  at  them  now ;  then,  he  had  an 
idea  that  fathers  knew  next  to  nothing.  Augus- 
tus is  no  worse  than  he  was.  Maybe,  he  will 
come  to  looms  yet;  he  is  just  like  the  Curzons, 
and  they  were  loom  lovers.  Now  Cecil,  his 
second  boy,  has  far  better  notions.  He  likes  a 
rod,  and  a  horse,  and  a  gun;  and  he  thinks  a 
gamekeeper  has  the  best  position  in  the  world." 

"  Mrs.  Atheling  sets  us  all  an  example.  She  is 
always  doing  something  for  the  people." 

"  They  don't  thank  her  for  it.  She  brings 
lecturers,  and  expects  them  to  go  and  hear  them ; 


352     I,  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

and  the  men  would  rather  be  in  the  cricket  field. 
She  has  classes  of.  all  kinds  for  the  women  and 
girls ;  and  they  don't  want  her  interfering  in  their 
ways  and  their  houses.  I  '11  tell  you  what  it  is, 
Piers,  you  cannot  write  Reform  upon  flesh  and 
blood  as  easy  as  you  can  write  it  upon  paper. 
It  will  take  a  few  generations  to  erase  the  old 
marks,  and  put  the  new  marks  on." 

"  Still  Reform  has  been  a  great  blessing.  You 
know  that,  Father." 

"  Publicly,  I  know  it,  Piers.  Privately,  I  keep 
my  own  ideas.  But  there  is  Kate  calling  us,  and 
I  see  the  carriage  is  waiting.  Thank  God,  Re- 
form has  nothing  to  do  with  homes.  Wives  and 
children  are  always  the  same.  We  don't  want 
them  changed,  even  for  the  better." 

"  You  do  not  mean  that?  " 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  said  the  Squire,  positively.  "  My 
wife's  faults  are  very  dear  to  me.  Do  you  think 
I  would  like  to  miss  her  bits  of  tempers,  and  her 
unreasonableness?  Even  when  she  tries  to  get 
the  better  of  me,  I  like  it.  I  would  n't  have  her 
perfect,  not  if  I  could." 

Then  Piers  called  for  his  son ;  but  Harold  could 
not  be  found.  The  Squire  laughed.  "  He  has 
run  away,"  he  said.  "  The  boy  wants  a  holiday. 
I  '11  take  good  care  of  him.  He  is  n't  doing  noth- 
ing; he  is  learning  to  catch  a  trout.  Many  a 
very  clever  man  can't  catch  a  trout."  Then  Piers 
asked  his  little  daughters  to  come  home  with 
him;  and  Edith  hid  herself  behind  the  ample 


After  Twenty  Golden  Years     353 

skirts  of  her  grandfather's  coat,  and  Maude  lifted 
her  arms  to  her  grandmother,  and  snuggled  her- 
self into  her  bosom. 

"  Come,  Piers,  we  shall  have  to  go  home  alone," 
Kate  said. 

"  You  have  Katherine  at  home,"  said  the 
Squire. 

And  then  Kate  laughed.  "Why,  Father," 
she  said,  "  you  speak  as  if  Katherine  was  more 
than  we  ought  to  expect.  Surely  we  may  have 
one  of  our  six  children.  The  Duke  thinks  he 
has  whole  and  sole  right  in  Dick  and  John ;  and 
you  have  Harold  and  Edith  and  Maude." 

"  And  you  have  Katherine,"  reiterated  the 
Squire. 

When  they  got  back  to  Exham  Hall,  the  little 
Lady  Katherine  was  in  the  drawing-room  to  meet 
them.  She  was  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  house, 
a  fair  girl  of  fifteen  with  her  father's  refined  face 
and  rather  melancholy  manner.  Piers  delighted 
in  her ;  and  there  was  a  sympathy  between  them 
that  needed  no  words.  She  had  a  singular  love 
for  music,  though  from  what  ancestor  it  had 
come  no  one  could  tell ;  and  it  was  her  usual 
custom  after  dinner  to  open  the  door  a  little  be- 
tween the  drawing-room  and  music-room,  and 
play  her  various  studies,  while  her  father  and 
mother  mused,  and  talked,  and  listened. 

This  evening  Piers  lit  his  cigar,  and  Kate  and 
he  walked  in  the  garden.  It  was  warm,  and  still, 
and  full  of  moonshine ;  and  the  music  rose  and 
23 


354     I*  Thou,  and  the  Other  One 

fell  to  their  soft  reminiscent  talk  of  the  many  in- 
terests that  had  filled  their  lives  for  the  past 
twenty  golden  years.  And  when  they  were 
wearied  a  little,  they  came  back  to  the  drawing- 
room  and  were  quiet.  For  Katherine  was  striking 
the  first  notes  of  a  little  melody  that  always 
charmed  them ;  and  as  they  listened,  her  girlish 
voice  lifted  the  song,  and  the  tender  words 
floated  in  to  them,  and  sunk  into  their  hearts,  and 
became  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving. 

"  We  have  lived  and  loved  together, 
Through  many  changing  years; 
We  have  shared  each  other's  gladness, 
And  wept  each  other's  tears." 

And  while  Kate's  face  illuminated  the  words, 
Piers  leaned  forward,  and  took  both  her  hands  in 
his,  and  whispered  with  far  tenderer,  truer  love 
than  in  the  old  days  of  his  first  wooing. 

And  if  any  thought  of  The  Other  One  entered 
his  mind  at  this  hour,  it  came  with  a  thanksgiving 
for  a  life  nobly  redeemed  by  a  pure,  unselfish 
love,  and  a  death  which  was  at  once  sacrificial 
and  sacramental. 


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